No longer chosen
by Nashra
Summary: Discontinued, please enjoy the new version
1. Eastvale panic

Disclaimer: I do not own WoW. The series of Warcraft are owned and created by Blizzard. Sadly that means that Merrilynn, does too, though I claim full credit on entering the character into the World of Warcraft world.

Chapter 1

It was a peaceful time in Eastvale. The sun was shining, the birds were twittering and the hunters had finally succeeded at keeping the wolf, bear and murlock population to a minimum. The people who lived here were very happy indeed. Little did they know that this all was going to change.

Living in this village was a great night elf hunter by the name of Treon Weaderin, which was rare, since the night elves hardly leave their houses in the trees. But there were oddballs occasionally who left the protection of the trees and left for the human cities. They were scarcely found in dwarvish cities, for the underground structures were too industrial for their liking. Treon had just moved there with his wife Manja, who had been a mage in her time of glory. She was human, but in these times it was quite common to see couples of mixed races, and it was tolerated, though looked upon strangely.

They had a little girl who went by the name of Merrilynn. In most aspects she looked human, if you overlooked the fact that her eyes were purple and she could see pretty well in the darkness with them. She was also slightly larger than her mother, and her ears, though human sized were pointier and a whole lot more sensitive. Since she had been old enough to fully understand the meaning of magic, her mother had taught her the ways of the mage.

She would've followed in her fathers footsteps first, but she did not care much for the hunter way of life. She loved the fact that animals became her friends, that trait being helped by the elven blood that ran through her veins, or that she could sense certain types of beings if she focused hard on it, but the life her father had led before he met Manja was a lonely one. Not many people liked hunters because there were simply too many of them these days and that their pets were very protective of their masters. What her father didn't know was that she wasn't suited as a mage either. Every time she dared to cast a bolt of fire or ice, her hands burned, and some of the scars were still visible. But her parents seemed oblivious to the fact that their daughter was in pain.

Even the little girl herself learned how to bite away the pain after a few years. She did not wish to disappoint her parents any more, after all. So she grew up learning everything to magic that there is to learn and grew into a fine young woman. Her hands had gotten so scarred by now that she wore black linen gloves wherever she went. But that did not stop the boys from Eastvale, however few, to gaze at her whenever she passed by. They did not care much for the fact that she was not pure human. She was beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

She was 17 when it happened.

Merrilynn was waiting in the kitchen for her parents to come home with a surprise. Needless to say that even though she was nearly an adult, she was still curious and exited about what it was going to be. Her heart was set on a horse, but she also realised that her parents, even though great heroes of old, did not possess enough money to buy one. The day was just like any other day really, since nothing much seemed to change here.

But when her parents stormed into the room pale and filled with fear she had to change her idea.

"Merri, quick, run away from here, head for Stormwind." Her mother said hastily, shoving a pack in the young girl's arms and dropping random provisions in it.

"But, mom, I don't understand, what's going on? What is happening?"

She wanted to look out of the window when she heard a high-pitched scream coming from about a mile away, but couldn't because her father talked to her again, voice strained with fear.

"There's no time, you need to go now. Take your mothers old horse, head for Stormwind as fast as you can, don't take the road…just run through the hills."

"But dad, the hills are filled with bandits and murlocs…"

"At this time the hills are safer, you must leave now, Merrilynn."

At this point she knew that her parents were serious. They only used that tone and her full name when it was important.

"But why? What's going on?"

Her mother and father grasped her by the hands and looked at her, seeming both grieved, proud, fearing and loving at the same time.

"Merrilynn, my dear, dear Merri, we love you with all our hearts, and we wish for nothing more than to be able to see you grow, but Elune seems to have something different for us in store. At this moment we need you to be safe. Whatever will happen here, we will not let you be a part of it. Go now, make for Stormwind, and don't look back."

Confused and, not knowing why, afraid, she made her way quickly towards the stables. All she saw around her was chaos. She found her mothers old horse already saddled and bridled and it seemed like it was just as anxious as the rest of them.

"There, there Wingrust. It's ok, we need to leave now." She whispered to the white steed whilst patting its nose.

After that she mounted and left, not daring to linger in there any longer. Even though she still didn't have a clue of what was going on, her gut told her that she shouldn't stay here.

The horse galloped as quick as it could, and pretty soon the sound of screaming was left far behind her.

But Wingrust wasn't fast enough.


	2. 4 trolls and 1 forsaken equals trouble

Chapter 2

They were faster, they were stronger. With a terrified whinny the horse fell too the ground about 10miles from Eastvale. Merrilynn had been knocked from it and it was only after she had gotten oriented again that she saw what had made the horse fall. An arrow was poking out from its left flank and bleeding heavily. She crawled towards the horse and tried to make it better, but she was too terrified to do anything. She was whispering too the horse when she heard something. It was someone or something coming closer.

Knowing that the forests around Eastvale were not always friendly she started to run as fast as she could, but she didn't get far. Before she knew it a net had fallen down around her. And laughter could be heard. This is where the terror really entered her mind, for it was not the laugh of a human. It was too deep and too rough for that. She knew that whoever had uttered the sound was definitely not from the Alliance.

She didn't dare to look around, especially not when she heard several footsteps surrounding her net. She may not have cared much for a hunter lifestyle; but her father had taught her everything she needed to know about tracking and such. She kept her eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity. But when she felt the net being removed from her she burst into a run again. A hand grasped her before she had even made a step. A big hand with long stretched muscles and only three fingers. She felt how she was passed towards a much smaller pair of hands, very much like a human hand, only that it was far harder than any of the hand she had ever felt, and it was cutting in her skin. Frightened, she dared not open her eyes, but she heard the voices talk around her in unearthly voices. She could not understand the language, but she knew it was about what they were going to do with her.

When they had made an agreement it seemed, she was pushed roughly against a tree and bound by her wrists. The humanlike hands were cutting deep in them as they fastened the bonds. Soon afterwards she felt the three fingered hand on her body again. It was touching, it was fondling, it was doing things that it should not be doing to her. She wanted to cry out, but she didn't know if that would edge the villains on more or not. When she felt cold metal on the front of her chest she stopped thinking.

They were going to kill her.

Wildly she started tugging at her bonds in the hope of finding a weakness in the tree or rope but all she got was laughter from all sides. As the blades started ripping through her clothes her eyes opened in shock.

That's when she saw them.

Trolls, three of them, four counting the one cutting her robes and one forsaken. They were all abominations, but in comparison to the Forsaken the trolls were beauty queens. The group of assaulters had a scary gleam in their eyes and she wanted to wrench her eyes shut again but the undead had forced a spell on her as soon as she had opened her eyes so that her body would no longer obey her. She knew he had been waiting her to do so. Her mind was forced to witness the undead violating her mouth and fondling her chest with his bones. She couldn't scream as the troll entered one oversized finger in her virgin passageway, breaking her. She couldn't cry as one of the other trolls roughly pushed the other one out of the way and was about to enter her and cause her more pain than she could possibly bear. Everything about a troll was big. And that really did mean everything. She was wishing for death now. She wanted death; she did not want to live through any more of this.

And then, inches before the troll could enter her, an arrow struck him in the heart, letting the thing keel over and die. The others made a quick escape, and Merrilynn was free from the mind control. The eye contact had been broken. But she did not have anymore energy to cry. She just passed out from utter shock.


	3. Saved

Chapter 3

Smoke started rising from Eastvale. The bells of Stormwind started to ring in utter urgency. Commander Benjamin Gale had been the fist to arrive at the tower guards.

"Jonathan, what's going on?"

"Fire, commander, Eastvale is on fire!"

Alarmed Benjamin gathered his company and travelled towards the smoke. It didn't take them long to realise that this had not been an ordinary fire. No, the smoke was too thick and too black for that. A couple of miles before the village a scout returned and requested an immediate halt.

"What is it?"

"Please commander, keep your voice down, they can hear awfully well."

"Who? What have you seen?"

"Trolls, 4 of them, and one undead. But that's not all of it sir... they… well…"

"For god's sake man, fess up. What are they doing that's so horrid."

"They're molesting a young girl. She has to be 18 tops."

Everyone that had been in earshot was outraged. Benjamin regretted the fact that he had asked. It was needless to say the company ran as silent as they could towards the crime. They witnessed about 5 seconds of the horrible deed before one of the men acted and shot an arrow through the troll's heart. The others ran, but only 2 of the trolls escaped the clutches of the Stormwind Regal Guard.

"John, you take your men to Eastvale... look for survivors. Alistair, you and your men will take these two fiends and bring them to Stormwind for justice. Creton, you come with me."

Creton Scoe, a very promising paladin who was exceptionally good at his profession, definitely for the young age of 20, followed the commander with a slight discomfort. Of course, he had been in the Guard for some years now, but the worst he had encountered so far was a brute gnoll called Hogger killing and eating the local cattle. And no matter how many times they left him for dead he always seemed to be back in a matter of days. To actually see a troll dead on the floor and a young woman naked and molested hanging from a tree was not what he was used to. The scratches on her body told both men that the forsaken had had a lot of fun. When they had arrived at the tree, he did what seemed most dignified for the poor girl. He took off his cape and gently hung it in front of her.

"No, not yet, don't you think the girl would be more covered and safe if she was cut loose from the tree first?"

"But sir, how can you know she's still alive?"

"I'm an old and rusty paladin Creton; I can sense the living from a mile away, but she doesn't have much time. Now, cut her loose."

When he was about to cut one of the ropes he noticed the blood that was pooling beneath the bond. She obviously had fought against them. There was something strange about the girls hands though, at least the parts that he could see from under the torn gloves. They seemed scarred; some parts a little black, like she had burned them repeatedly. It didn't seem to make any sense compared to the rest of the girl. She was beautiful, fiery red hair to her strangely pointed ears, pale skin with little freckles on her cheeks. He couldn't really see her eyes, but he had the idea that they would be just as beautiful as the rest of her face.

He didn't think about it much longer and cut the bonds. The girl was so exhausted that she just fell forward. But Creton was quick and caught her. After he caught her, he realised that he was touching her in the wrong places and his face turned red. Benjamin quickly took the girl from his hands and ordered the young paladin to wrap her in his cloak. after that Creton mounted and took the young girl in front of him to keep her up, it was risky to heal her here, but Benjamin made no move to take the girl away just yet; instead he stroked her cheek softly.

"Such a shame, she's so young, Creton I trust you to have a potion with you? Or have you forgotten them in Stormwind? I think it is safer for her to stay with us."

Without words Creton took out a small vial with a red glowing potion in it. From experience he knew it tasted vile, but the herbs in them had strange healing powers that worked faster than any priests hands. And that was what she needed at the moment: fast healing.


	4. Ruined village

Chapter 4

The commander then mounted and they were off to Eastvale to meet up with the rest of the company. After a couple of meters they had to halt, for one of the scouts had returned again.

"What is the matter, soldier?"

"There's a dead horse not far from here, struck down by a troll arrow, I think it belonged to the young girl. What should we do with it?"

"Is there anything of value on the horse?"

"I do not know sir, I didn't check the content."

The commander got angry. If the soldier had, then maybe they would have found something to identify this girl. He ordered the young man to show them where the horse was. The horse seemed to be of old age but still sturdy built. It had obviously served as a steed for one of the regal guards in the days of its glory. The harness was taken from the poor creature and the vile arrow removed from its flank. Upon further inspection of the bridle they discovered that this horse had indeed been an army horse.

"When the corpse wagon arrives, have this horse lain on it too. It served the alliance well; it should deserve a proper burial."

And then they continued to Eastvale. When they came to the village horror struck into their hearts. The villagers were attacked mercilessly and without warning. Every man, woman and child had been slain. Houses were burned and strange, unreadable messages could be read on the walls that were left standing. The destruction was great, but most of the fires had already been put out by the mages in the Guard. It seemed like there was not a single chance of survival. Until one of the soldiers cried out: 'There is one still breathing here!'. The commander rushed forward and found a night elf barely alive. When they turned him on his back so that they might heal him better, or at least give him a potion that would keep him alive, they had found his chest pierced by many arrows and several wounds bleeding. It was a miracle that he was still breathing. When the commander was about to uncork a vial, the elf he cried out save my wife, inside, and passed away.

Seeing as nothing could be done for the elf anymore they moved inside the house, though their hearts were even heavier. The night elf had fought to defend his house until the end. It was completely destroyed by the horde, but after a bit of searching they found a female lying underneath a bookcase. Just like her husband, she had fought hard, and by the smouldering things all around her they figured she was a mage with some heavy firepower behind her hands. They moved it away from her, but they were already too late. In her hand she held a small letter appointed to someone named Merrilynn. She had it clutched in her hands and the corners were burnt what told them that she had held it the entire fight.. Benjamin took the letter, read it, and then gave it to Creton and told him to hide it safely and not lose it.

Then he went to the only bookcase that was still standing and pulled back a book. Immediately the bookcase swung backwards and it revealed a room with a lot of treasures. He ordered his men to take all of the stuff from the room and put it in a safe in Stormwind. He would not give any explanation why.

When dusk came the company rode back heavy hearted. They had always thought their borders to be safe and well protected from horde. But now realisation dawned on them that their numbers were just too few in Elwynn to stop the horde if they intended to attack a village. Numerous town leaders had warned them that the protection was too little, but they had never heeded it. Now they paid the price for their insolence. Benjamin and Creton were to report to their superior as soon as they were back, but both of them were weary and they still had to take care of the young woman, who was now shivering in the young paladins arms A cloak was not much protection against the nights cold, and she was also in need of healing, the wounds on her wrists had stopped bleeding, but the way they looked was reason enough to be concerned. They rested in Goldshire for the night


	5. The power of food

Chapter 5

It just so happened that there was a priestess lodging in the local inn who was very experienced and wise, and she took the girl into her care. After she had tended and bandaged the wounds, she clothed the girl and laid her in the bed. When Benjamin came up and found her still unconscious and wrapped in the bandages he asked the priestess why.

"This girl has been harmed by a wicked spell, right now, any magic used on her would do her more bad than good. Do not worry, she just needs to regain her strength, she will be strong enough to be healed by magic soon. For now, just let nature run its course. What happened to her? She has been brutally treated to say the least."

"When we found her, 4 trolls and one forsaken were raping her. We were able to hunt them away before any of them actually entered her. At least, I think we were on time."

The priestess' face looked grave. The alliance between them and the Horde had been made long ago against the Burning Legion, out of pure necessity. But now, in times of peace, the memories of that time were waning, and both sides were thirsty for the blood of the other once more. There had only been slight quarrels in Stranglethorn Vale and the other cities where both factions were allowed to roam without fear for their life. This had been the first straightforward attack from the horde onto one of the lesser cities. If the ones responsible were acting to get a reaction or just to taunt the alliance, nobody knew, but actions had to be taken. The commander and the priestess talked about this for a while and then she bade for him to go and rest. But instead of doing so he went down to his men and sat down next to Creton with a grave look on his face.

"What ails you, Captain?"

"We're off duty here Creton; you can call me by my first name. Do we not know each other long enough for that?"

"Yes we do, but still, what ails you?"

"According to the priestess the girl was mind controlled during her assault. As a result of that she cannot be healed by magic till at least tomorrow. I just hope she will make it through the night."

"I'm sure the potion we gave her will keep her strength up until magic can help her. Were there any severe injuries besides her wrists?"

"She has a lot of deep wounds where the undead molested her, but the area under the navel is the worst. The horde and his filthy claws..."

"Was she...you know"

"I don't know, but I think we got there just in time."

"Good. Com...Benjamin, can I ask you another question?"

"What is it?"

"How did you know that the house had a secret chamber?"

"That is not a matter that I can discuss here. Too delicate. Now let us go and rest, I hope to reach Stormwind by noon tomorrow. We'll carry the girl with us if we must."

"She's coming with us? But sir, our duty is done, she is safe now. We need not take her with us as a burden."

The commanders' eyes filled with rage when Creton said that.

"You think of her as a burden? Were you not in a likewise position years ago? Your village destroyed by the Horde? You were too young to understand any of it then. If I had considered you a burden like you consider her now, you would still be in there. But I found you, took you to Stormwind with me, showed compassion and took you under my wings. All I ask of you now, is understanding for a girl that has gone through worse and is old enough to full well understand what happened to her and her village."

Creton went silent and bowed his head. Benjamin had been right. Many years ago his city had been ransacked by the Horde, and his mom had hid him in a cupboard to keep him safe. He had only been 4, so he had no idea why his mom had stuffed him in a cupboard and had ordered him to be silent. He realised that he could be able to relate to the girl, more than anyone else could.

"There's another thing you should know, Creton."

"What?"

"She's possibly a half-breed."

Without even noticing Creton's wide-eyed expression, Benjamin emptied his pint and went for bed. He would deal with the paladin in the morning, right now he needed sleep. He needed to get the images of the burned down village and the brutally killed villagers out of his head. But after all those years, he still hadn't learned how. The next morning the priestess was delighted to tell them that the girl had woken up, but that she was still very weak and knew nothing of what had happened in her village. When the paladin wished to take her to Stormwind however she refused.

"But sir, she is still much too weak for such a journey, before you reach the city she shall be unconscious again."

"Then you do not know what miracles food can do to a person's strength."

And then he entered the room where the young girl had been sleeping. She was now wide awake however, looking very pale and scared. When she heard him entering her head turned as fast as was humanly possible.

"Don't worry, I'm a friend, I shall not harm you, I promise. I thought you might be hungry and I brought you some stew."

Her expression turned a little more relaxed, but it was still cautious. Benjamin briefly wondered how it must be to have no recollection whatsoever of how you ended up in a place, bruised and battered. But maybe it was for the best that she had no memory at all of the previous day.

"What kind of stew is it?"

"Chefs secret, he calls it Mystery Meat stew, always refuses to tell us what's in it, but I suspect its cow with a little bit of chicken. But doesn't matter, it tastes wonderful, trust me."

Still eyeing the stew with caution she accepted the bowl and took a shallow first bite. She liked it, but it didn't taste at all like chicken and even less like cow. Seeing the paladin looking at her encouraging she didn't mention anything but just ate a few more bites. After half of the bowl she felt quite full and strangely a lot stronger than when she woke up.

"Did you like it?"

"It was ok, but it's the weirdest cow and chicken that I've ever tasted."

Benjamin laughed. She wasn't the only one who had that opinion. A lot of strange rumours went around one what kind of meat the cooks used for their Mystery Meat Stew. One of the most recent ones being that it was actually not really cow, but Tauren meat with some quilboar added to it. But that rumour every cook resolutely denied. Humanoid flesh was the only thing that they'd never cook. But that truth that was not very reassuring.

When Benjamin saw her put the bowl aside, she seemed to have a little colour was back on her cheeks. But her eyes were still scared. Then, looking at the commander with those violet eyes she asked him the one question he hoped not to answer.

"My parents are dead aren't they?"


	6. You're kidding, right

Chapter 6

Benjamin started looking at the ground, the window, the closet, anywhere but at the girl really. It was all the answer she needed.

"I see."

The reaction didn't really posses the sadness or grief he had expected, but when he picked up the courage to look at the girl again, he saw why. He had seen it so many times before. She was fidgeting with the sheets, her head bent, her eyes unsure. A lot of innocents had gone through the same thing. She didn't know what to feel, or how to respond. The crushed hope of her parents being alive, the reality and denial were in full battle in her mind. She was mulling over the possibilities. What if? He sighed. It had never been easy and there was no standard procedure in dealing with this situation.

He suddenly found her purple gaze upon her. He saw exactly what he expected to see in them. Grief, doubt, disbelief and loss.

"How did they die?"

It took a while for Benjamin to realise what the girl meant. But then he sighed again.

"The whole village was destroyed girl. Nobody survived. But to give you a detailed account on one person is not easy. I don't even know their name. You can't expect me to just know who your parents are. I'm a paladin, not a priest you know."

Upon saying that a hint of annoyance entered the girls gaze, well stare was a more accurate description of what she was doing. But as she started to talk he could hear the pride in her voice, it made him wonder if the girl wasn't a little spoiled either.

"My father's name is Treon. Treon Weaderin, he was a great hunter from Dolanaar before he retired."

Hunter? Dolanaar? Well that certainly rang a bell. So she was the daughter of that night elf. He had guessed it already, but had hoped to be wrong. The purple eyes, the pointed ears. She was a half-breed. The girl would best swallow her pride and keep her tongue to herself when it comes to her heritage. Marriages between different races were tolerated, but there were few who actually liked it. Especially night-elves. They considered one of their own marrying one of another race a disgrace. Their offspring was a taint on their 'perfect' race, and they were often banished or even killed. The girl was in for a hard time, she would never be fully accepted by any of the races, and not even other half-breeds like her would show her mercy. They had become bitter because of their treatment. He reminded himself to talk to her about that later on. For now he would listen to her little speech.

"My mother's name is Manja. She served the regal guard all her life until she met my father. They live in the second house as you enter the village. Now tell me, how did they die?"

Benjamin thought back to the letter. No, he couldn't tell her, not yet, she didn't need to go through this yet.

"Your name must be Merrilynn then."

Her face turned into a shocked expression. This annoyed Benjamin and he felt himself get angry.

"How did you know that? I never told you, and you weren't part of the guards that patrol Eastvale."

"It doesn't matter how I know does it? You wanted to know how your parents died? Let us begin with your father. The night elf was found barely alive in front of his door, pierced by many arrows. It took only seconds before he died. He only had time to tell us to save his wife. Your mother then, she was a tricky one to find. The whole house was a mess. It was only after moving several bookcases that we found her. Her hands were so red that it surprised me that she hadn't set herself aflame yet. Anybody else you want to know about? Long lost nephew? Your dog maybe?"

It was only after he saw that she had buried her head in the sheets and started crying that he was aware of the venomous tone in his voice. He hadn't meant it, but he hated to have to retell tales of a person's last moments, even if he was telling it to their offspring. He sighed once more; he really wasn't good at this type of thing. He put a hand on her back as to comfort her a little.

"Look, what I meant to say is that your parents fought bravely until their dying breath. They shall be honoured and given a proper burial. You should remember them with pride in your heart."

He could hear soft mumbling coming from the girl head, but the sheets were drowning the words. It took Benjamin three tries before he finally understood that she was asking what a proper burial was exactly.

"First they are cleansed from all dirt and sin. After that they are burned in the middle of their village."

Her head shot up and she looked at him again, tears evident on her face.

"How in the world can burning them be called a proper burial?"

"The horde has their own ways of using our deceased as minions against us. They have done it before, and sometimes our people didn't have to be dead before they lay a grip on them." He mused, thinking back to the betrayal of lord Arthas long ago, it had been a harsh blow for the Alliance, even though that hadn't been done by the Horde, nor their continent. "If we burn them, they cannot be used for any vile purposes ever again. Then they can rest in peace. Your parents and everyone else in that village deserves to rest in peace."

He struck the right cord it seemed. Pride is so easy to please. She regained her composure and asked no more about her parents. She wanted to honour them. She even ate some more of the stew.

Then when she tried to stand up from the bed, she realised again that she was actually terribly hurt. The moment the soles of her feet came in touch with the floor, pain shot through them, all the way to her thighs. She fell back down on the bed in an instant. She looked at her legs confused and raked her hands through her hair looking for an answer in her mind.

Benjamin feared another unavoidable question when a knock came at the door. Not long after Creton appeared. He was just in time, and not just because he had saved Benjamin from having to answer.

"Ah Creton, come in. it seems our little survivor has a name. This is Merrilynn. Merrilynn, this is Creton. He will be your guardian for the time being."

Two pair of eyes went wide in disbelief and two minds thought one thing in unison.

…You have got to be kidding me…


	7. What happened

Chapter 7

Creton was the first to get over his disbelief.

"Guardian sir?"

"Until we arrive in Stormwind, yes. Then we can seek out a proper trainer to take care of her until she completes her training."

Merrilynn spoke up and by doing so she confirmed Benjamin's beliefs that she was a little spoiled.

"I am 17 years old; I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Benjamin put his face within an inch of hers.

"Is that so miss… than tell me, how did you end up here then? Besides, as you said yourself, you are 17, and that makes you underage. That means in turn that you are in need of a guardian until you are 18. Do not make me send you to the orphanage for that last year. That woman doesn't have the capability of taking care of a turtle. But she's the only one who'll take the job. Trust me when I say that Creton is much more fit to take care of you for those few days."

She tried to defend herself…but she found no glitch in the man's reasoning. And besides, it was only for a few days right? She looked at her new guardian. His head was down and she couldn't see his face. It seemed he wasn't exactly happy with his new task either. But friend or not, Benjamin was still his commanding officer, so it was accept or the gallows for him.

When he asked her to stand she felt the pain running through her legs again. She was able to stand for about five seconds and then gave up, sitting down on the soft mattress again.

"What happened to me?"

If she had known him better, she would have seen the lie in his eyes. But lucky for Benjamin he was a perfect stranger to her. He thought it would be for the best if she was kept in the dark, at least for now.

"We don't know, when we arrived in Eastvale we found you, not far from an old horse. It must've fallen and thrown you off.

Inside her brain Merrilynn knew there was something amiss, but she couldn't point it out. She didn't remember anything. He continued about how she was transferred here and how her condition had been too critical to heal in the means of the paladin. They were very potential healers, but their magic was a little to strong for a weak body. Healing her in that condition could've meant her death. She nodded, but when he told her that he could heal her properly now and came to touch her in order to heal she jerked away. For some reason she didn't like to be touched. Not anymore. Annoyance appeared on the man's face.

"Look, it's necessary. We're already running late and unless you want to spend an extra week here I suggest you let yourself be healed now."

When she didn't make any move he roughly grabbed her ankle. A faint glow started to spread from his hand into her ankle and through her legs. Immediately the pain was numbing. A few minutes later he withdrew his hand and all she could feel was a light tingeing, like her legs were asleep.

"That should do it. Can you stand?"

As by demonstration she stood up and looked relieved.

"Good. There are some clothes in that closet, I expect you dressed and downstairs in a few minutes. Now Creton, I believe you wanted a word with me?"

And without another look at the girl the both of them vanished and she was finally alone.

#Merri POV#

Seeing their backs I feel the urge to do something nasty while their backs are turned. But I swallow it. I feel the anger boiling in my blood. That man had nerve. The least he could've done is say please. I'm not one of his puppets on a string. I stomp my foot in anger and immediately regret it as my bare foot hits the hard wood. With a light limp I make for the closet. What happened to my robe? It's not in here. After a few minutes I take out a red robe that looks at least a little nice.

Just as I'm about to take of that disgusting nightgown there's a cough behind my back. Why didn't I notice that person come in? My dad taught me everything I needed to know about sensing people. But now that I know the person is here I can pinpoint the aura. No wonder I couldn't feel it. It's all over the place; I can even feel it on my hands. Letting go of the hem of my nightgown I turn seeing an elderly woman smiling at me.

"The commander told me that you would be leaving soon, so I thought I would change your bandages before you left."

It wasn't a suggestion or even a question. From the look in her eyes I knew it was a command. So I just sat down on the bed as she took hold of my hands.

Wait a minute…. What is wrong with my hands, I only fell of a horse right?

I had noticed the bandages before, but only now I make the connection. And as I see her rolling of the cloth blood is revealed. Dried blood, scabs everywhere. I start to feel sick as I notice how bad the wound looks. That definitely did not come from falling of a horse. She lightly pokes the wound and I hiss as I feel the pain reaching my brain in less than a second.

She smiles with an unspoken apology in her eyes.

"It's healing quite fast, must be the elven blood in you, but it needs to be cleaned again."

I see her taking a piece of cloth out of a basin of water beside her. I frown; I didn't see that in this room before.

"I'm not going to lie to you, this is going to sting."

She wasn't. The cloth had barely touched my wrist or I had retracted my arm in pain. That water wasn't just warm, it was flaming hot. Plus I guess she put some potion in there to make the thing extra cleansing and extra painful.

"I told you; now just hang on alright, if I don't clean this it won't heal properly."

I hiss as she grabs my wrist and dabs the wound. Oh this was going to be hell. But as I look the dried blood and dirt disappear and the wound doesn't look as bad anymore. It was definitely not a normal wound. It looked like something was tied around my wrist. I nearly groan out loud in frustration. Why can't I remember anything? I hate this.

"You were the one that patched me up right?"

"How did you know?"

"My father taught me how to sense people."

"He must've been a great healer then. Because it usually takes us years to even pick up auras."

"Actually, he was a hunter."

Her mouth turns into an o shape. Guess she didn't see that one coming. She had a small blush on her cheeks as she takes out a salve and quickly busies herself smearing it on my wrist. When she wants to smear it on my hands too, I stop her.

"I've had those since I was a mere infant. There's nothing that can be done about those anymore."

Another o-shape on her mouth, but this time her expression seems a little more understanding. I'm probably not the first mage she sees with burns on her hands. Even my mother had light scars, though not as badly as mine. She starts the same treatment on my other wrist and I notice the exact same wound.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I'm a healer my dear, my job is not to ask questions. They brought you in here and I took care of you. You probably know more than me."

I could hear her lie. Why was everyone lying to me? What could be so bad that they didn't even care to tell me, the victim, about it? I swear by Elune and every other god out there that I will figure this out.

When she's all finished with my wounds she finally leaves me alone to change. And not long after I descend the stairs. I see a lot of gloomy faces sitting on tables. Ah, so I'm at an inn. I must be in Goldshire then.

The two guards are waiting for me. The one who brutally healed me has an impatient but friendly look on his face. The other one… Creton I think his name was… has a look of utter disgust etched on his face. I hope it doesn't stay that way. Otherwise I'm going to be in more misery than I thought.

Man, if I had to choose between him looking at me like that or having my wounds cleaned again I'll take the wounds. I mean, a little more sour and he looked like a lemon.


	8. Alluring aura

Chapter 8

Benjamin motions me to follow. Before I can even take one step forward they had already left. I guess nobody ever taught them the meaning of the word patience. As I turn the last corner before I'm outside I trip and land face forward in the middle of the square. I can feel hundreds of stares on my back as I turn my gaze toward my foot. Trying to get from underneath my ankle is a little chicken. I groan. Who in their right mind lets a chicken run loose in the middle of a town? I get back on my feet and scan the surroundings. I'd never been outside of Eastvale before. My mom told me a lot of stories about the rest of Elwynn though. But now that I see Goldshire with my own two eyes I have to admit I'm a little bit disappointed. Somehow I imagined it…bigger. And more graceful. It looked like somebody just dropped the houses in the middle of nowhere.

And then I look at the company of soldiers that was obviously waiting for me. Looking at Creton I see him trying to hold back a laugh and his eyes are filled with mock and glee. I clench my fists and I bite my tongue. If this guy is going to be my guardian I'd best hold my tongue or I'll be in deep trouble. That Benjamin guy is coming towards me again. He looks a little apologetic, though amused by my fall as well.

"I'm sorry; I should've warned you about the chickens."

I can hear his men snicker. Relax Merri; if I'd seen someone fall I'd do the same thing. Count to ten and all will be alright. A little calmer I glare at Benjamin and ask what happens next.

"Well, we go to Stormwind of course. I'm afraid we don't have an extra horse available. You don't mind sharing, do you?"

I shake my head and he leads me to one of the horses in the middle. I feel sorry for the poor thing. Being all covered in heavy armour. You could hardly see what colour or breed it was. I gently pat its nose when I hear a cough above me. I look up and wish I hadn't. He couldn't be serious. I turn my gaze towards Benjamin, hoping he's going to say 'you should see the look on your face' or something like that. But the seriousness of his face tells me it's no joke and that there are no other options. I look at the rider again. He doesn't seem too happy either. But at least he doesn't look as sour anymore.

I put my one foot in the hoop and notice that my dress isn't going allow me to mount it properly. It's just to long for that. I groan and look up. Why do the gods hate me? I just take one side of the dress and rip it until the tear reaches a little higher than my knee. Just as I'm about to put my foot in the hoop again someone grabs my waist and starts to lift me. Not checking who it is I lift my foot and hit a sensitive region. Lucky for whomever it was that he had armour on. Damn that hurt my foot. But he got the message and leaves me alone. And finally I'm on that bloody horse. I don't dare to look around as I realise that a large portion of my entire left leg is visible. But looking in front of me was no option either unless I wanted to be blinded by the paladins armour.

What was up with that anyway? No matter how peaceful it was they always needed to wear those over buffed tin cans they call armour. Like they wanted to pretend they were the knights in shining armour that swept the lands on their grand white steeds and rescuing damsels in distress wherever they went. My father always called them poor excuses of healers or warrior wannabes. It seemed like he was right. But then again, he hadn't really been fond of tem either.

As the company finally starts to move several of the other soldiers pass by and make very crude remarks. I really wish I could hurl a fireball at them without hurting my hands right now. It was like they'd never seen an exposed leg before. Some of them were old enough to be my father. Figure of speech of course, my father was 112 after all. Was, it's so strange to talk about my father in the past. Like he was just something that happened. But besides feeling strange about talking in the past I don't feel much else. Even though I'm alone now and they are dead. I should be feeling grief and pain now. I should be crying, why am I not? Creton must have felt something because he suddenly starts talking to me.

"Grief doesn't always come directly after loss. Sometimes the heart and mind needs time to process it. To fully understand what happened. But it will come.

He sounded kind, empathic even. Hadn't I seen the sour look he had given me earlier I would've actually believed that he was caring for me. I snort in response, what does he know about it anyway.

#Creton POV#

She snorted! I can't believe she snorted. There you have it, you try to be nice and then this happens. I looked at the mop of red hair in front of me and glare at her. Normally when people say something nice, snorting is not a response. But then again. I haven't exactly given her any reason to care of what I have to say.

But who can blame me, who wouldn't react like me if they suddenly had a spoiled half-breed to take care of. I need to stop saying half-breed. She was a girl, and furthermore a victim. But I just can't help feeling hate rise up whenever I think of them. They were freaks of nature. Sure, a night elf and a human looked ok, and a dwarf and a gnome were acceptable too, but any other mixing was just plain wrong. Not to mention their behaviour. They always acted like they were both, and that caused a lot of conflict before. I hope this girl learned that being half-half is not a good thing. I might not like the thought of them, but there are people who hate them all together.

I guess I have to give her a chance, seeing as I'll be babysitting her for the next couple of days. The gods must hate me or something. What was Benjamin drinking when he shoved her in my care? He knows how I feel about people like her. It must've been what I said in the tavern. Trying to teach me a lesson the hard way.

But I have to admit she's pretty tough for a spoiled brat. Not many would just rip up a dress to be comfortable on a horse. And she's pretty strong too. I had seen parts of her injuries and she didn't look too pained.

"Ah nearly there" I sigh relieved as I see the first gate of Stormwind in sight. I hear a gasp in front of me and see the girl straightening up. As we pass through the primary gate she looks around heftily at all the splendour the bridge has to offer. If she was amazed now, how would she react once we got in the city? A gryphon flies neatly over our heads and she follows it with her eyes. I quirk an eyebrow at her as her face has a childlike awe written all over it.

"By the way you're acting I'd start to think you've never seen a gryphon or Stormwind before."

She blushes and quickly looks forward again, obviously trying to suppress her urge of looking at the statues again. If I hadn't been holding the reins I would've slapped myself. I never meant to sound so berating. I was exactly the same when I first came here, this city is overwhelming. I put my head next to hers and whisper.

"Wait till you see the church or the castle. They're even better."

She just nods as we stop on the bridge. Of course, inspection and briefing. Telling us all how we did a good job….blablabla. I wonder if that guy even has a hobby, he always seems to be waiting in front of the last gate for any soldier that returns from their mission. I see the girl cringing, like she is suffocating or something. Putting a hand on her shoulder I want to ask her if she is alright, but the look on her face answers the question before her voice can. She's battling something inside her. I don't understand.

#Merri POV#

That aura, too strong, it's way too strong. I have to get out of here; I need to get out of here. I can't breath, and that guy is still coming closer. I can't breathe. Come on girl breathe, I have to take a deep breath. I need to calm down. Why does he have to come here?

"So this is our little survivor. Horrible what happened. My condolences."

I say nothing and grip my throat. I need air now. I beg him to leave with my mind, but he seems oblivious to the fact that his aura is suffocating me. As he leaves air comes back to my lungs and I take several deep gulps. Creton's hand is on my shoulders.

"Are you ok?"

I nod my mouth too busy taking in air. As the troops start moving again I feel the aura fading and I can finally breathe easy again. I've never experienced something that strong. One of the younger men comes to ride next to Creton's horse. He tells me that it'll take a while before I'll get used to that guy's power. I hope so; I don't want to experience that feeling again. He then tells me that he's amazed I'm still alive. I looked at him with a frown. Creton coughs behind my back and the young mans gaze flickers wearily.

"What happened?" I ask, hoping I'll finally get some truth.

"Your village, the raid, your horse. If you hadn't escaped in time you would have died you know."

I groan. I get it already; I'm not supposed to know what happened to me. Soon we arrive at the stables where Creton offers me a hand. Puh, who needs courtesy. I just jump down from the horse. And then I regret it yet again. I really need to get some shoes.

"You should really stop doing that. The healing Benjamin offered was only a light one, you could easily get hurt badly again."

"No…really?" I can practically feel the sarcasm dripping. He just glares at me and finishes tying up the horse. After that he leaves the stables. Now what am I supposed to do? The next moment he sticks his head back in the stables with an impatient look on his face.

"Are you coming?"

Do'h. Of course I'm supposed to follow. Smooth Merrilynn, very smooth. He leads me through the city and I feel so lost. Compared to Eastvale this place is huge. He looks behind him from time to time, telling me things about the city and that I'll get used to the size soon.

"I live in Old Town. It's not that far from here, but it's a pretty tricky place to move around."

"Old Town?"

"Yeah, it's what they call that district. Stormwind has 6 of them. There's the mage's district, the dwarven one, that's where you'll find the tram to Ironforge and then there's the night elven one. You also have the trade district, that's the one we just passed, you know with the blue rooftops. And as last ones we have the cathedral square and old town where I live. All these districts are connected by the canals. Lots of tailors live around the canals."

"Why exactly are we going to your house?"

"Well, I am your guardian, so that means that my house is your house now."

Made sense. He looked a little less sour and his voice was less mean. Maybe it was just the travelling that made him so mean? I don't know. Once inside I notice how little this looks like a home. A house yes, but home…it looks too emotionally unattached for that.

"You live here alone then?" he nods

"Do you have any family?" I can't help myself from asking, especially since there are very few pictures. I grab one that has two soldiers on them. One is Benjamin, and the other seems to look like a younger Creton. I snigger a little. He looked a little cute in that oversized armour.

"The only family I know of died when I was 4. Horde raided my village."

I put the picture back. Shit… I turn to see him sitting in the chair, obviously bothered by the memory. Smart move I made.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's ok, you couldn't have. But now you know that you're not the only one that has been through your pain. Well some of it any…"

And then he stops. I can feel anger again and I nearly hit him in annoyance.

"…I get it already, something terrible happened to me and you're not telling. Do you mind if you tell me why I'm the only one that's kept in the dark?"

"We'll talk tomorrow, you need to rest, let me show you to your room."

I sputter, I object, but I can't get another word out of the guy. So I grudgingly follow him to the room that was going to be mine. He bids me a goodnight and says that he will tell me all he knows as soon as he thinks I'm ready for it. Once he's gone I huff. When's that going to be? When he's on his deathbed? Seeing as there's nothing else to do I get into bed. As soon as my back hits the soft and fluffy mattress I realise just how tired my body really feels. I fall asleep quite fast.

_Laughter…cruel unearthly laughter…pain. My wrists are bound; they're bleeding from the rough rope. A knife comes in front of my face and I want to close my eyes. I can't why can't I close my eyes. Someone is in my head. I hear him talking. I hear him forcing me to keep my eyes open. But I don't want to, I want to close my eyes. Stay out of my head, get out. Leave me alone. Shadows all around me laughing at me again with that laughter. They're looking at me like I'm going to be their dinner. Don't look at me, don't touch me. And then pain. Pain like I've never felt before. I want to scream, but I can't. _

But as I sit upright in the bed I realize that I did scream, because Creton is standing in the doorway with a candle in his hand. A look of concern on his face.

"Are you …"

But before he can finish I already pushed him out of my way and run. I don't know why I'm running, but I know I must. It's not safe there. For some reason it's not safe. I let my feet guide me and see that I'm running next to the canals. I can see the different entrances to the districts and still my feet keep running, crossing bridges and water. Suddenly, as if they had been struck, my feet stop and I fall in a patch of grass. I look around, not entirely sure if I'm still inside the city or not. In front of me I see a winding path going up towards a tower. That must be the mages training tower that my mom spoke so fondly about. The aura of it is faint, but I can still sense several mages in there. Maybe they can help me. Benjamin said he was going to find me a trainer didn't he? Why not look for one myself.

But just as I'm about to put a foot onto the path I sense something different. A stronger aura, one I haven't felt before. It seems alluring, guiding me to another place. Maybe I should follow it. My head disagrees; one should not be following strange things if one doesn't know what it is. But my feet and heart follow the strange aura. It leads me to an old inn and it goes further still. The place looks deserted and I notice a small hallway straight across from me. I'm not really sure whether I should be doing it, but I have to know where that alluring scent comes from. Going down the winding path I can feel the place become warmer and brighter, a fire is crackling somewhere. All of a sudden I come face to face with five conjurers. That's the only way I can describe them. They weren't mages, their scent was too dark for that, but they seemed too nice to be necromancers. not that I know what necromancers feel like. Nice mess I got myself into I hear my mind scold myself. I want to turn and go back up the path and pretend this never happened, but my escape route is blocked by something.

I don't know if you could even call it an it. It was red, had spikes, horns and furthermore a lot of teeth. Startled I put a couple of steps back and collide with one of the people. He looks at me questioningly.

"What are you doing here, girl? Do you not know that it is very unwise to disturb a meeting amongst warlocks?"

He flashes me a dangerous grin and I cringe. I really should learn how to keep my nose in my own business. I could've been in the mages tower by now.


	9. Felhunter, the red thing with teeth

Chapter 9

"B-b-Be carefull. I'm-m a-a-a vvvvery powerful mage…st-step back or be be be sorry."

The man chuckled. True, I didn't sound very convincing, but he was reason enough to be scared of, not to mention that thing that seemed to be looking at me like I was his dinner. Though I'd have to find out where its eyes are first. I'm dead, I know that for sure.

"Whether you are an all powerful mage or not girl, and I very well believe you aren't, you seem to be a little bit…outnumbered, don't you think."

I take a look around and see 6 of them surrounding me, not counting the thing and another pixie like creature that's glowing and hopping around like he's had too much sugar. The man is right, I'm outnumbered and probably in a lot of trouble. I've heard stories about warlocks. Vile and treacherous creatures that had a big responsibility in starting the first war. They were to be avoided and killed before they killed you. True, they didn't seem vile, much, but looks could be deceiving. I start to back up as the man moves closer, that evil grin still on his face. Finding my back against the wall I wrench my eyes shut and hope it will be over soon.

Nothing comes. No blast, no punch, not even a gust of wind. When I carefully open one eye the man is laughing at me, as are the rest of them. One of the females, once done laughing, smiles at me.

"Not all stories about us are true child. Yes we know the stories that forego our lore. We are summoners of darkness, we are nothing but evil, we do not belong in this world and every warlock should be executed on sight. Tell me girl, do we look like those kind of people to you?"

"N-no…" I look at the man again, apparently still scared as he has another small fit of laughter.

"I'm sorry about that kid; I do that to everyone who comes down here. I have to say you held out quite nicely, most people who see my little jhatie run away screaming."

"Jathie?"

"Jhaat'hun, actually, it's my felhunter...the red thing with teeth." He sighed as he noticed my look of confusion.

"So child, what brings you to our humble ground?" The woman asks me. Fair question I suppose, it's not like they have a girl in a nightgown interrupting their meeting every night.

"I-I don't know. I was running and ended up at the mage's tower. When I wanted to climb it I sensed this aura, and I couldn't help but follow it. I'm truly sorry for intruding; I'll be on my way."

One of the other warlocks spoke up at this.

"Sensing demons at this young age? Impressive, tell me young one, who taught you the lore?

"I'm just a humble mage sir; I have no idea what lore you are talking about. My father taught me how to sense people, not demons."

"Tell me girl, was it a bittersweet smell, that smelled like lavender and yet not?"

"Yes"

"Then you sensed demons, young one, more specifically Zggi here."

He was motioning at the jumpy thing, which was looking very insulted at the moment. Strange, it was like it understood what the warlock had said. The woman talked again.

"Zardeth, you know Zggi is very sensitive about that. And you girl, show me your hands."

"Why?"

"To truly see if you are a mage."

I still don't know why, but I hold out my hands for her to examine, perhaps I was under some form of spell. I see pity pass through her eyes as she touches the bandages on my wrists. But when she touches my hand I cringe. Her touch burns, like she reawakened the burns that had healed so nicely on my hands.

"You have been taught in the ways of the ways of the mage, yes, but you are not fit for that kind of magic my dear."

"How would you know what I am fit for?"

"Your hands are nearly charred by the pure fire it has to control. Your body was never made to shoot ice at people or transform them into sheep. You were made for the lore of shadow."

What? No way, I'm not one of those vile creatures as they are. I don't name teeth like they were my pet. I cannot and will not be a warlock. The burns are some kind of initiation, no more. I must have said something out loud because the woman responds.

"A lot of us thought your way when we found out. Me, a creature of darkness? It can't be, must be a mistake. Until I learned how to cast shadow and unholy fire. It never hurt anymore; in fact it felt quite pleasant. The power that I can wield makes me feel strong. Stronger and more reassured than when I was learning to be a mage. My body thanked me for my decision."

She shows me her hands, they're barely hands anymore, and most of the skin is shrivelled and black. It was like a look on the future. Was that what was going to happen if I continued casting fire?

"You see child, not every warlock chooses to become one, mostly, we get chosen by it. We are not evil, and we will never be evil. Yet because of the actions of some we are cast out like filth. They do not see the difference. The true evil ones have no more light in their eyes. They are just grey and the veins are clear to see. They have no reason or conscience. We do. We lost many of our kin because of that mistake. That is why we live in hiding."

I look down, trying to set everything in order. I was…chosen by the shadow? Meaning I had no opinion in this? It seemed so unfair. I want to cry out in protest, but the woman stops me.

"We are known warlocks child; this does not mean that you must live in hiding now too. Mostly we are tolerated as long as we don't conjure anything. But I suggest, that if you ever wish to learn the ways of the warlock, you go to Ratchet, there's a powerful teacher there."

"But isn't that horde country?" I don't like horde, especially not after what they did to my village.

"In the ranks of warlocks, there is no horde and alliance, only people who wish to lead a normal life, even though their families cast them out. It is the same with druids. Where they share the love and respect for nature, we share the unlucky fate and feelings of being different."

I don't know what to do. All I can think of right now is getting to Creton again and mulling over what the woman had said. Do I really want to spend the rest of my days as a warlock? I realise I don't know, I don't know anything right now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seems like my imagination has come back a little, though I kept you all waiting a long time in the process. I'm sorry for that.

I tried earlier, but it seemed like I needed to reread the story and finally get myself a gamecard again before I could get in touch with my warlock once more.

What a contact it was…during my absence my very nice guild disbanded cries and the uber 1337 epixx that I worked my butt off for are USELESS compared to some of the new green content. Nice way of Blizzard to force you to buy the expansion, and make all your efforts laughable. (Omg you went into BWL at lvl60 omg, you sucker. We can do it in 20mins baha). But I will not yield I tell you….not at the moment anyway. According to my bro the questing is a nuthouse at the moment. And he's a rogue!

So again sorry for the long wait, I hope to be able to update at least every two weeks. If I don't you are all entitled to come and smack me.

Read, Review, Flame….gieev them to me


	10. She will never join your ranks, warlock

Chapter 10

Jalane, the woman with the blackened hands, escorts me out of the pub, warning me several times that under no condition I am to tell anyone that I am a warlock. 'As long as the people do not know, you can live a free life among the people' so she tells me. After that, I will be forced to hide or flee for my life. This all still seems so unfair that I have no choice.

"Nobody ever has much choice, girl. Does a prince really have much choice but to rule a kingdom in his father's absence? Can priests choose to give in to temptation and taint their aura in the process? Does the Horde have any choice in being pursued for crimes their ancestors committed?"

"But the Horde destroyed my village!"

"So you will judge them all on account of what a few did? Yes, there are evil Horde, but the Alliance is not a saint either. They seek and destroy as well, but they keep it hidden from us, so they can blame attacks as Horde rage. I am sorry your village is destroyed, and you have the right of thinking this way, but I just want you to realise that the kind of Horde that destroys is only a small part of the entire population."

She has a point, I grudgingly admit. But as she guides me through the different districts I start to worry about her safety.

"As I said before young one, we are tolerated as long as we do not openly cast magic. And besides, it is night. None will notice my presence besides the rats."

"Let her go, NOW"

The both of us turn around surprised and Jalane lets go of my shoulder quickly, her expression turning a lot less friendly. Creton is standing a few steps away from us, sword unsheathed and growling.

"All right, sir paladin, I was merely returning this lost girl home. But if you prefer to take care of her, I'll be on my way."

She starts to move away from the swords range, but Creton speaks again.

"Not so fast warlock." I hear him pronounce the word like it was something nasty. "Whatever you cast upon the girl, get it off her now. She will never join your ranks."

What in Elune's name is he talking about? But then I realise paladins can sense stuff too. I must reek of demons since I spent quite a while in their hideout.

"No, Creton, you got it all wrong. When I ran away, I stumbled into her. I was so confused that she decided to see me home. I didn't even know she was a warlock. Please Creton, don't harm her. She was only trying to be nice."

Two pairs of eyes look at me surprised. Jalane because I know the paladin and Creton because I just defended a person he seems to hate. But seeing my pleading look, he gives in and sheathes his sword. He gives the warlock one more menacing growl.

"You will be spared, for now. But if I see you near the girl again, I will have your head, is that clear?"

"Transparently, sir paladin. I bid thee a good night."

Once she leaves, Creton motions me to follow him, his face still settled in anger. We walk to his house in silence. I really don't know what to think. Creton actually tried to protect me. Probably because he's still thinks I'm under his protection, but still, I didn't think he wouldn't kill Jalane because I asked, he seemed so eager to do so. When we get inside he rounds on me.

"I never ever want to see you near a warlock ever again girl. The priestess in Goldshire told me you were able to pick up auras, then why didn't you sense theirs? They're vile enough to smell. What were you thinking running off in the middle of the night anyway? You had me worried sick. I've been up and about for 2 hours looking for you, and then you come up in the middle of nowhere like nothing happened? If I fall asleep during guard duty tomorrow it will be your head, understood."

I wanted to tell him that I'm not deaf, because he was screaming right next to my ear, but his state of anger shut me up good. He looked just about ready to kill me. Yet a part of me finds it funny. How can I never be near a warlock, when I'm going to be one? But another part gets angry, how dare he tell me off like that? What I do is my business and none of his concern.

"It's hard to know what a warlock senses like if you've never met one you know. And I'm sorry ok?"

Angry I sit in one of the couches. The sorry had come out a lot more meant than I intended to. Probably because he had said he had been worried about me. Seemed like a quaint sentence between all the accusations.

"You've really never met a warlock?"

"I have never gone out of Eastvale until yesterday. And it's not like the warlocks happily frolic about there. All my life I was raised to think that they were mean and treacherous."

"Well they are, and you'd be best not to be seen with them. They're trouble."

"Maybe only because you never bother to get to know them."

…shit, I shouldn't have said that. Now Jalane and her friends will be in deep shit because of me.

"You did know she was a warlock? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you defend her?"

Since the cat was out of the bag already, it would be better if I fessed up the whole story. But he had to promise me something first.

"Promise that you won't go looking for her, that you will not attempt to kill me or her and that you will listen to my entire story."

He frowns at the comment of not attempting to kill me, but sits down and promises, he even puts away his sword. Not that that makes me feel any safer, paladins can cast some nasty magic.

"I had a nightmare, in my dream I saw shadows, they were laughing at me, and I could feel pain, a lot of pain. When I woke up I just wanted to run. I didn't even know where I was going. Until I ended up at the mage's tower. I thought that maybe I could find me a trainer and I wanted to go up but then I sensed this other aura. It's smelled so nice, and I wanted to know where it came from. I ended up disrupting a meeting; I thought they were going to kill me at first." Upon that I saw Creton glare and wishing he could throttle something. "But it turns out they were only joking. Making fun of the way most people thought about them. They're really quite nice, no harm at all. Just a little…disappointed in the way people feel about them I think."

I take a deep breath, I have to tell him sooner or later, seeing as he'll be my guardian, but if that means that he'll behave the way he did towards Jalane, I'm not really sure if I want to. I see him sighing.

"You need to know Merrilynn; the warlocks did a lot of bad things. They were a great cause that the Burning Legion nearly destroyed everything."

"She told me that because of the acts of few, their entire kin is seen as traitors, even on the Horde side. But she also told me that the majority of the warlocks are not evil, and most importantly did not choose to become one. The magic choose them, because they cannot handle the pureness of the fire that mages cast."

"That's a lie, everyone has a choice in life in what they wish to become, even them."

I stare at him, surely he has seen my burns, and how can he be so close-minded. My anger rises and I need to vent it out. I stand up and nearly scream.

"How do you know? You don't even know a warlock personally. They have NO choice, I HAVE NO CHOICE."

It seems like anger was not the only emotion in my system. I let myself drop back into the chair, exhausted for some reason and depressed. Out of the corner of my eyes I can see him sitting there, baffled and unsure. After a moment he asks, no more determination in his voice.

"What do you mean, you have no choice."

I show him my hands, blackened in parts and scars adorning them. In a tired voice I tell him what Jalane told and showed me.

"The warlock you nearly killed was even worse; it was hard to believe she could still use her hands. They were shrivelled and black. She told me that she too had once been a mage, but where true mages had no problem casting fire and ice, hers burned and scarred. And she also told me that when she finally learned to cast shadow, the pain stopped, and her hands lightly healed. She told me this after seeing my hands. She knew immediately that I was going through the same thing as she had gone. Don't think I like the idea; it's so unfair that I have no choice in this. Do you think I want to be hunted for the rest of my life, just because the dark magic chose me?"

I can't handle it anymore and I start to cry. I just wanted to be a mage and serve the army like my mother had once done. But now it was all so messed up. How much more cruelty do I have to go through? I suddenly feel two arms encircle me and shush me. Looking up I see Creton hugging me. Maybe he wanted to take me by surprise and kill me.

"I never knew that. I just thought they were fallen mages. In a way, they are. I always thought they handled dark magic because they wanted too, not because the fire burned them. Sure, I had seen the scars, but I thought that they would disappear once you completed your training."

"You're not going to cast me out?"

"Of course not. Benjamin appointed me your guardian, and I intend to follow his command."

"Then why did you look so nasty when you found out?"

I see a blush forming and if I had been in a better mood I would have laughed at it.

"Well you see, you are only half-human. And I had some bad experiences with half-breeds in the past, so I thought you'd be just like them. But after I heard you scream and run, I realised that you were more than that. You are a victim, a survivor and still a person. And you being a warlock doesn't change much of that. And besides, maybe you do have a choice."

Even though the whole half-breed, victim speech makes me a little mad, it doesn't really matter much as the last thing.

"Like I said, I don…."

But he interrupts me with a small smile.

"I never said that you had a choice in being chosen…I meant you had a choice in being a warlock."

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I had a lot of answers ready for mister advice, but after a lot of rethinking, I realised that he probably only reviewed on the base of my summary! Thanks to that I realised that I had written the wrong age in it. She is 17, not 18 :p. So I spose I should be grateful for that. Even though the rest of his advice was useless. Yes I know elves hate humans, it's written in my fic that they tolerate them, that's it, but there are oddballs. Yes I know the Burning legion happened 4 years ago in WoW, I watched the cinematic enough thank you.

And you sir, have a HUGE contradiction in you review. When elves don't know humans, how can they find them disgusting. HA, HA HA.

To everyone please ignore this ranting, I just hate it when people want to break down a story in form of rude 'advice'. Nobody says hon when they mean the best for a person.

Then again, judging a story based on its summary is just wrong. Just to defend it though, I say in chapter 4 or 5 that the war with the burning legion happened long ago, and 4 years does not count as long ago in my opinion. . I think people can place this story about 20 years after the Burning legion, but the Outlands do not exist yet. Since I don't have the expansion :p. So Merrilynn can exist Not that I think he'll actually read this

If being threatened with a sword is what Jalane calls being tolerated, I'd hate to see what happens if they weren't. Anyhoo, Creton thinks he's got a plan to get her out of the warlock life. But will it work. Another thing bout Creton, he's nothing but a hard shell really. Once he heard the nightmare, she really got to him. Go Merri.

Btw: when I said at least every two weeks, that means that there might be times that I update every two days, like now, but no later than two weeks after a chapter. But don't worry, I'm on a roll, I don't think it will take that long… I hope

Thanks to all kind reviewers and hope you liked this chapter

Read, review, flame…ur choice.


	11. Invisible pain

Chapter 11

Sleep went uneasy. No matter what I tried, I just couldn't seem to get rid of my dreams. It got worse when I actually imagined something poking me and calling my name. Though it didn't take long for me to realise that something was really poking me. Opening my eyes sleepily I could see a faint yellow glow.

"About time you got up. I've been trying for a long time kiddo."

At the tone of that raspy voice, my sleepiness is gone and I can see a strange and greyish thing sitting on my chest. I don't know what it is, but it looks familiar. Big horns and even bigger ears. Tons of earrings, a silly grin and those yellow flames. I can't help myself. I scream. Immediately two little claws grab my mouth.

"Shh, you want to alarm every guard in town?"

I can feel my eyes going wider than ever. It…just…talked. I have to be dreaming, this isn't real. But as the claws put a slight pressure on my mouth I have to face reality. It looks at me with those creepy eyes.

"I'm going to let go now, but you have to promise not to scream…All right?"

Before I can nod, heavy footsteps are coming towards the door. Speaking a strange language the thing looks distressed. He glares at me and growls one thing before disappearing in thin air.

"I'm not here do you understand? One word about me and you're a goner."

A knock at my door and Creton's worried voice. Without waiting for an answer he enters my room. I look at him, hoping it's a normal expression and not the one of shock and horror I've been wearing ever since I noticed the thing on my bed. Strangely enough, even though it's gone, I can still feel its weight on my chest.

"Are you ok? I heard you scream."

"I'm fine, just a nightmare."

Instead of leaving he enters and closes the door. Why won't he leave? Why is he sitting on my bed? He's putting his hand on my forehead and I can feel the strange weight on my chest move towards my legs. Maybe this is just a really realistic dream. One where invisible things are walking on me and Creton actually cares.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I really wish I could say no, but something stops me. Maybe, just maybe if I tell him about the nightmare I had earlier, he'll tell me what really happened. In faint hope I tell him about the voices and the pain. But all I get out of him is a look of pity. He knows more, I know he does. Frustrated I ask him why I'm kept in the dark for the hundredth time that day. He looks at the door, obviously thinking hard. I hope it hurts.

"Benjamin forbade me to tell you anything. He's coming here tomorrow. To discuss things with you. I assume he wanted to be the one to tell you everything."

"But why can't you tell me in advance? To soften the blow?"

"As much as I'd like to, I think it's for the best if you speak to Benjamin tomorrow. Good night."

Aargh, if there is ever a prize for 'best avoider of a subject' in the world it would go to Creton. If I knew how I would've cursed him then and there. But as soon as he leaves the thing appears again. Startled I try hard to suppress the scream that's ready in my throat. It seems pleased that I don't make a sound.

"Look kiddo, I'm not here to hurt you. As much as I hate it, I was assigned to you. The name's Pagrin."

"Wow, wait, what?"

The thing…Pagrin sighs. It seems like he really hated whatever he was doing.

"I'm Pagrin, an imp." Seeing my confusion the…imp…sighs even harder. "Oh boy, they couldn't have sent me to someone more intelligent?" I hear him mutter under his breath as he rubs one hand through his hair. Well at least I think it's hair.

"To put it in easy language, I'm a demon from the netherworld. A small, unappreciated, demon that has to do all the dirty jobs without getting anything back for it. You get it or is it still too hard?"

I shake my head. Something told me this thing was bitter and very easy to upset.

"Good. At least we got that over with. Just like every other imp that makes the oath we get sent to the human world to guide, help and serve new children of the shadow. This means you. Do you understand?"

I nod, though slightly annoyed that he still treats me as a child.

"Do you have any other questions kiddo?"

"Eum, yes…How did you know where or who I was? How do you know that I'm a servant of the shadow? How come you can talk? Why aren't your flames burning the sheets?"

The imp holds out his little claws and orders me to slow down. I couldn't help it. I mean, how would anyone else react when they suddenly have a self-proclaimed imp in their bedroom saying they are now their servant?

"One, the netherworld knows everything about their children. I know because your aura has been tainted, not to mention the scars on your hands and the fact that you went into a warlock lair and both sides lived. I can talk because I'm a demon, believe it or not. And I'm not burning anything because I don't want to. Anything else?"

"What do you mean my aura is tainted?"

"Must've been pretty bad if you don't remember anything. Look here kiddo; everyone has a chance of getting their aura tainted. But the netherworld only notices those who have the traits to become warlocks. Because their aura has always been a little darker than the average mage, warrior or priest. Having your aura tainted means your body becomes more adaptable to shadow. I'm not saying untainted mages can't become warlocks, but they have a harder time casting at first. At least until their body has gotten used to it."

"So, you're stuck with me now?"

"Yup kiddo, well, at least until you die. And believe me when I say the life expectation of a known warlock is very low."

"Well, that's comforting."

"Hey, I'm here to help and guide you, not to comfort."

"I'm not known yet, so you don't have to stick with me."

"Sorry kiddo no can do. Once an imp is sent to the human world, they can only be sent away by their masters."

"Ok…how do I do that?"

"You can't. You're just a rookie; it'll take you at least a week before you can even curse someone properly."

"I can curse someone?" Score. Maybe this warlock business was not so bad after all. Well besides the whole low life expectation and having an imp follow you around the entire time thing.

"Yes, and don't worry kiddo, as long as you're not known as a warlock you wont see me out in public, though I'll be with you all the time."

"How?"

"I just do my little trick."

And before he had even finished his sentence he had disappeared again. Though I could feel the weight on my chest. I couldn't help but be creeped out. How was I going to know for sure this Pagrin wouldn't be invisible and watching me when I was changing clothes or going to the bathroom? He must've seen my look change to horror because he laughed creepily.

"Don't worry; you'll be able to see me in a day or so. Just a lot more see through and you'll be the only one."

Without warning Creton entered the room. It scared the living hell out of me. Thank god Pagrin was hidden or the poor thing wouldn't have lived.

"Who are you talking to?"

"I was probably muttering in my sleep."

"With two voices?" Shit…I can't risk him finding out about the demon.

"Eum…I do voices?"

He looks unconvinced, but I guess his need of sleep wins over the urge to question me. All he does is grunt and tell me to go to sleep. Benjamin would be here first thing in the morning.

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Ouch, I'd hate to wake up and find an imp in my bed. I know warlocks don't just 'get' their imp. They need to get this book out of a camp with 3 bandits. I remember sneaking through it while another guy was killing the bandits hehe. Boy was that a long time ago.

Well, Benjamin's going to have a little chat with our little warlock. But not just bout the whole 'finding her in the woods molested' thing, but also about all the bling bling her parents left her. Let's just hope she can stay awake during his speech and Pagrin hidden for the two paladins.

Read, review, flame….Do what you want


	12. Not a morning person

Chapter 12

Someone was knocking on my door. I try to open my eyes and blink a few times to ban the sleep from them. I groan and turn around in my bed. It wasn't even light yet! Why was Creton waking me up at this hour? Neither of us had gone to bed early. He knocks louder and more persistent. Why couldn't he leave me alone? Seeing as I'm still not answering he knocks a third time and calls out my name. This guy isn't going to give up until I'm awake, is he?

"Yes?" I grunt sounding very annoyed. I wasn't a morning person, never was, never will. The best thing for everybody to do is NOT bother me when I'm sleeping. But it seems he's not affected by my annoyance and comes in. I hear him sighing and the next moment I'm cold. Pulling up my knees to my stomach I groan again. What was up with him? He shakes me awake and tells me that there has been a change of plans and that we were expected at the bank in less than an hour.

"Whatever"

And I let my hand travel around on the bed, searching for something to cover me with again.

"If you're not out of bed in five minutes I'm going to throw you in the canals."

"Fine"

I'm definitely not happy. He woke me up before sunrise and I probably had less than an hour of sleep. I think that somewhere in that sick little mind of him, he likes to torture people like this. Finally sitting up in my bed he leaves. I rub my eyes sleepily and notice a faint yellow glow near my pillow. What on earth?

I remember yesterday and the strange creature that had woken me up. He told me something about being able to see him in a day or so. So I guess I'll be able to see him fully in a few hours. I slightly poke the glow, whispering his name. In return I get a grunt and I smirk. Guess I'm not the only one with a morning problem. My gaze falls on the dress from yesterday, and the tear I'd made so I could ride the horse comfortably. I guess it'll have to do. Seeing as Creton is a man, and unless he's hiding something, I doubt he will have any female clothing in the house.

Washed and dressed I wonder why exactly we are going to the bank. Maybe they wanted to make my execution public? I don't know, but I have to keep thoughts like that out of my head. I'm scared enough about anyone finding out and killing me as it is. I can't believe how much I've changed my opinion. A few days ago I would have stood in the crowd as they threw rocks at a warlock, or cheer as one got punished. And now the thought disgusts me. It seems so wrong to judge a human being for what their ancestors did. But this was how the world worked.

Pagrin suddenly calls for me as I'm about to descend the stairs. Looking behind me I see a mass of grey and yellow, but nor real details yet.

"Can you see me?"

"A little."

"Good, you're improving."

Without asking he jumps onto my shoulder. When I comment on this he says that his little legs can't follow me around that fast and that it would raise more suspicion if somebody accidentally tripped over him. I sigh as I go downstairs. As soon as I learn how to dismiss him, he's out.

Creton's already waiting for me at the door. Looking warily at my shoulder he hands me a hooded cloak. Seeing the fine purple colour and pattern stitched around the edges I realise that it can't be one of his. He probably saw my thoughts written all over my face because he speaks in a low tone, like he's ashamed of admitting it.

"It's a gift; it can get really cold out here. It should keep you warm."

I'm touched. Never figured Creton to be the kind that gave gifts. Putting it on, I feel Pagrin move from my shoulder right next to my neck. Strange, I could've sworn Creton's eyes had followed the movement. Could he see Pagrin? Oh god I hoped not.

"Put on the hood kiddo."

As casually as I can I put the hood over my head and follow Creton through the door. He leads me back to the district with the blue rooftops. It seems to be a busy day. The streets are practically littered with people, some of them roughly shoving past me. One of them actually pushing me out of the way, causing me to trip.

"Watch where you're going half-breed."

What did he call me? How did he dare? He doesn't even have the nerve to show me his face while he's saying it. I want to shout at him, challenge him to say it to my face like a man, but Creton pulls me on my feet and drags me away from the rude guy.

"You'd better behave around here. A lot of people aren't that friendly towards half breeds, and would take any excuse to hurt or kill them."

"How did he know?"

"Hunter probably."

The bank comes in sight and I can't help but gulp. The building was gigantic. It seemed so different from the rest of the buildings, and yet it fit right in. Benjamin is waiting for us at the entrance. He's smiling and shakes my hand, asking how I'm feeling. I wanted to say that I was fine considering I had an entire day wiped from my memory, but all that comes out is a fine. He leads me into the bank, Creton following silently. He motions me to a chair as he sits before me, his smile fading and his look serious.

"Before I continue anything, is your name Merrilynn?"

"I thought you established that yesterday?"

He nods, not really pleased with my rudeness, but I blame Creton. Still looking gravely he hands me a letter with slightly burned corners. I frown, looking from the letter to his face, back to the letter.

"Your mother had this in her hands when she died. I think you should read it."

I snatch the letter from his hands. Why did he wait so long to show this to me? Weren't these the kinds of things you give to a person immediately? He apologises, but I don't care. How could he? To top it off the envelope had been torn, he had read my letter! If I knew how to curse someone already he would've been my first victim.

_My dear Merrilynn_

_Today is a black day for the alliance. We are being attacked by the horde as I write this letter, and your father is outside, fighting them off with the few people that can still wield a weapon. I don't know how much time I have, so I write this with haste._

_Know that we love you dearly, even though at times it seemed otherwise. We know the pain you go through learning the ways of my lore. I feel the pain that burns in your heart. But we thought it was for the best. We hoped that by ignoring it, you would learn to do the same. And you did, though I realise now that we did you more harm than good. We treated you ill by forcing a lore onto you that you could not wield. I guess selfishness clouded my reasoning, for I wanted so much to be proud of my little Merri following in her mother's footsteps. We have always been proud of you, never forget that._

_I should not have ignored your pain._

_The screams are coming closer. I should go out and fight alongside your father but I wish to finish this letter. I must be quick_

_In the third bookcase from the left, on the third row there is a book with the name 'A city with secrets' Take out the book and the secret room will be revealed. All the treasures in there are yours now my dear. I hope you will not hate us for keeping this information from you for so long._

_I must go now. I hope sincerely that you are safe somewhere and that you will be able to read this letter. _

_Your father and I will love you until the end of time._

My knuckles had turned white from clutching the letter. My eyes are stinging and I squeeze them shut to halt the tears. In the last letter she was blaming herself for the burns I suffered. She shouldn't have, I chose to follow the lore didn't I? I could have said no whenever I wanted. But it seems I'm not even allowed a moment of peace when Benjamin speaks up again. He shoves me another letter and a large key.

"This letter declares that you are the single owner of a vault in this bank, this is your key. If you ever need anything from it, just show the letter to a clerk and they will show you to the vault. Do you wish to go see it now?"

I nod, not really feeling strong enough to take. I follow him quietly and never take my gaze off the ground. Pagrin whispers in my ear.

"I'm sorry kiddo, I didn't realise."

The vault is filled with not only coin, but several pieces of weaponry as well. One of them draws my attention. It's a staff, made from black metal. On top of it was a red crystal. But around the crystal there were four smaller crystals, twirling as if guided by some strange magic. Grabbing it I wonder how it is able to feel so light. Creton hands me some sort of belt.

"That way you don't have to carry that thing in your hands all the time."

Although his voice had sounded mean I didn't miss the awed look he sent towards the staff. He gave me a small bag of gold as well, saying I needed new clothes.

After the bank visit the commander leads me to an inn and buys the three of us drink. Right, like that'll cheer me up. Plus, I don't drink; alcohol always leaves a vile taste in my mouth.

"Do you have any questions?"

I look at him, making him promise that whatever question it might be, that he will answer it, and truthfully. His face tells me that he is dreading this, but he promises nonetheless. A smirk appears on my face and I voice my question, hopefully for the last time

"What happened to me on the day my village was sacked by the horde?"

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Well, he promised to answer…he could've just said no. On another note, the staff I so horribly described is an epic staff called the staff of Jordan. I used that one because my brother gave it to me, even though he could've sold it for a lot of gold. So the thing has some sentimental value for me. Besides, it looks cool

Mixcow: Disheartened? Never. I write stories because I want to. If nobody reviews, tough luck, even though the feedback is always appreciated. On the spelling thing: I'm not English, but that's not a real good excuse. I really need to get myself a beta.

Uruqiel2: You're absolutely right. Succubi are the only pets that can go invisible. Imps can phase shift, meaning they cannot be harmed by anything in the normal world. As a result, in game, they go see-through. But for the good of the story, I bended the rules a little bit. Imps are only visible to warlocks, to people who can sense shadow, or who the imp trusts. That's why the imp hides underneath her hood. You never know when a mighty paladin will pass by.


	13. Banished

Chapter 13

"Are you sure you wish to know?"

"I do believe I have the right to know what information you have. Anything is better than the black hole in my memory."

The commander looks around; making sure nobody is listening and starts in a low whisper.

"Your horse was found a few miles from Eastvale, an arrow in its left flank. My scouts found you a little further…you had been captured by the Horde. They'd bound you to a tree."

That explains the marks on my wrists. But I don't understand why his voice sounds so scared. Isn't he supposed to be this hardened soldier?

"When we arrive, the forsaken had already put you under a spell, and the others, trolls, were taking…advantage of you."

If it hadn't been for the meaningful look in Benjamin's eyes, I wouldn't have understood the full meaning of it. It explained a lot, the pain, the cuts on my body, the nightmare. Both men look at me like I'm going to pass out or something. I think I should have, but with hardly any memory of what exactly happened, I can only feel confused. I knew now what had happened to me, but it didn't even budge my memory.

"What happened to them?"

"We killed one, the Forsaken and another are in our custody…"

"But?"

"Two escaped. My best scouts attempted to follow them, but we lost them."

"Ah"

Well I guess that's justice for you. I don't know how to feel now. Should I be happy that I finally have something to fill up the hole? Should I be distressed for it? Or should I be angry because two of them got away? Taking a deep breath I want to say something, but Pagrin whispers in my ear.

"I didn't know that was the reason kiddo. Sure, we registered a definite taint in your aura, but if I'd known the reason, I would've been a lot nicer about it."

Before I can answer or even blink, Benjamin pulls down my hood and draws his sword. I look at him in shock as I jump backwards, trying to escape the sword. His face is filled with anger and contempt. What's going on?

"You are one of them!"

Before the eyes of everyone in the tavern, he lunges for me with his sword. I want to be able to run, to disappear. I want to do something, but I'm frozen to the floor. All I can do is squeeze my eyes shut as the blade nears my heart.

"NO!"

The sound of metal colliding with metal enters my hearing. Opening my eyes I see an armoured back in front of me. Creton jumped in front of me. He saved me! Wait a minute… he saved me? Why?

"Step aside soldier. Under your custody or not, this is a warlock. She deserves nothing but death for the path she chose." Anger sparked from the mans voice, but Creton didn't even flinch.

"I will not."

"Why do you protect her?"

"Because she did not choose this path, it was trust upon her. I will not let you kill an innocent."

How did he know? How the hell did he know I was a warlock? I look at Pagrin, who stood on the table. I don't need to ask.

"I never said I was invisible kiddo. I can be seen by anyone who can sense shadow."

As to prove the point Benjamin turns towards Pagrin. He takes out a dagger and throws it towards the poor imp. I can't help but scream. But the dagger flies right through it, leaving him unharmed. I can hear Pagrin laugh and my heart slows down a little. Several more daggers follow, but none of them harm the imp. Giving up on trying to kill him, Benjamin turns towards me again, but Creton still stands between us.

"I do not wish to kill you boy, but if you do not step aside, I have no choice."

"And I thought paladins were honourable."

Creton and I turn around, seeing Jalane and several other warlocks standing behind us. Their looks mean business.

"You! You shouldn't be allowed to see the light of day, warlock!"

"And you shall never see it again if you lay a hand on either of them."

Being clearly outnumbered, I figured he would put down his sword at least. But he just throws me a look of utter disgust.

"As of today, you and your _creature_ are banished from Stormwind and any other city belonging to the Alliance. Step foot on our territory again, and it shall be your head. You have till sundown to be as far away as possible."

Creton sheathes his sword and without saying another word he turns me around and guides me out of the tavern, Pagrin following close by. We walk for a bit in silence, and I can feel glares in my direction. A small rock hits my shoulder and I look at the direction. It's a child, barely 5 years old. The disgust in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life, I'm sure. Jalane puts an arm around me. I hadn't even noticed that she followed us.

"Don't blame him, he was raised in hate."

"But…Why?"

"You are walking in front of a member of the guard, head down as if you were guilty, besides a known warlock. People draw quick conclusions."

I say nothing as my eyes start to burn. Only yesterday people were smiling at me. And now, just because they know I am a warlock, they throw rocks and glare at me? I don't even know where we're walking as several more rocks hit me, along with rotten fruit and other things. Creton guides me in his house and gives me a towel.

"Have a seat."

Again, I hadn't realised that Jalane had followed. She's sitting in front of me now, a gash in her temple, probably where a rock hit her. She smiles sadly at me. I think it's a way of apologizing without words. I don't get why, it's not like it's her fault, was it?

"Thank you for saving our lives."

"You were lucky we were in the tavern at the time. I should thank you for saving her."

"But what now? If she is not out of the city by sundown she will be killed."

"There is someone in Ratchet who could train her. If we leave now, we might be able to catch the last boat."

"Then we should make haste."

"You sound as if you are coming too paladin. Surely you will stand trial for treason."

"Treason or not, Merrilynn was assigned to me. The least I can do is make sure she reaches Ratchet safely."

Normally I would've spoken up because they were talking like I wasn't in the room, but it was all happening so quickly. Right in front of my eyes, Creton was holding some kind of truce with a person he had promised to kill not long ago. Next thing I know we are walking in the city again, the three of us cloaked, Pagrin hiding underneath mine. And this time, instead of throwing things at us, the people just walk by. The wonders of a cloak. Arriving in the Trade district again, Jalane makes for the stables, but Creton stops her.

"It will take us too long by horse."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Follow me."

And he leads us up a ramp; a horrid smell enters my nose. It's like a stable that hasn't been cleaned in years, only worse. But as we enter a large building I forget all about the smell. There are at least twenty nests in the room, not counting the ones on the walls or hanging from the ceiling. Everywhere around me are gryphons, flying, sleeping or playing. In the far end there's a rack with saddles and a single man, looking out one of two large windows.

"Hey Dungar"

"Creton, what can I do for you?"

"These two ladies and I would like to go to Booty Bay." The man gives us a quick look, his face becoming grave.

"I don't know my friend; the area has been a bit rough lately. Already lost two of my finest birds."

Creton dug in his pockets and got out a few gold pieces. Seeing the glimmering coins a smile lit on the mans face

"But what sort of friend would I be, if I didn't help out one in need."

The man whistled and two gryphons flew towards us. I took a step back, afraid they would crash into us with those sharp talons. Saddling the birds he gave them a few instructions. I later learned that for every place, a gryphon had been taught another codeword. But now I only looked at the man confused as he seemed to speak gibberish to the birds. Creton helped me up on one bird and sat behind me as Jalane jumped on hers. They seemed to be comforted enough, but that couldn't be said of me. I'd never ridden a gryphon before and I could only hold on as tight as possible as the bird took off towards the place Creton had called Booty Bay. I hoped we'd be there soon. Apparently riding gryphons makes me queasy. But it's not like I can just get off.

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Woohoow, another chapter done and she'll be finally leaving for Horde country. But being banished from every alliance city? Harsh… At least now she knows she gets gryphon sick

Gameplaya: I can't really stick a figure on how many chapters I'm going for…When I started writing this I didn't even know what was going to happen in the next chapter. But now I got a general idea

Hope ya liked the chapter.

Read, review, flame…It's your click


	14. Humans are strange creatures

Chapter 14  


Somewhere along the flight I must've dozed off. I don't know how long it took us, because one moment we were passing Goldshire and the next I see nothing but jungle.

"Where are we?"

"Halfway in Stranglethorn Vale."

My stomach starts to turn again and I can hear myself groaning. Why people prefer this way of travelling over horses, I don't know. Feeling my stomach revolt I take a big gulp, hoping to keep it down.

"Are you alright?"

I don't need to answer as I can no longer hold the contents of my stomach. I sincerely hope that there was nobody standing beneath that. I can hear him chuckling behind me.

"Not the gryphon rider, are you? Don't worry, we're nearly there."

I weakly nod and do my best to keep whatever is left inside. Watching the moving scenery isn't helping so I close my eyes. Then I hear some sort of growl below us. The gryphon ascends without warning and I'm thrown into Creton. This is certainly not helping me to keep my stomach inside my body. Trying to hold on as the beast keeps flying higher I scream.

"What's going on?"

"Raptors."

That's all he says, and opening my eyes I can see that he is struggling to hold onto the bird as well. There's something missing…but I can't put my finger on it. I look around and see nothing. Then I realise there should be something there.

"Where's Jalane?"

"She was the only one riding her gryphon. She's probably in Booty Bay by now."

Not long after the insane ascend, the gryphon starts to lower. In the distance I can see rooftops. But as the gryphon lands I don't have much time to see the city. I can only catch glimpses of little green men and shop signs. Jalane grabs me by the wrist as the three of us run through the city. Well, they run, I'm being dragged along like a dog. Creton puts my hood on as he walks behind us in an equal fast stride. What is the hurry all of a sudden? A giant creature rushes past us. I don't know what it is. It's big, furry and has horns. Somehow it reminds me of a cow, only bigger and walking on two feet. It's headed towards a big ship, and it seems we're going the same way as well. Jalane's grip on my wrist tightens and I hiss at the pain. Has she forgotten I'm still healing? She's pulling me forward even faster and I can do nothing but stumble as I try to keep up.

"Wait!" Jalane yells as Creton picks me up by the waist and starts running. I try to wiggle free and demand an explanation, but he is holding onto me in an iron grip. They stop as soon as they're in the boat and Creton lets me down. I can feel the anger coursing through me. The entire run they treated me like I was five. Suppressing the need of stomping my foot and proving they were right I glare at their sweaty faces and cross my arms.

"Just what was that all about?"

"It was running or missing the last boat and spending the night in Booty Bay."

"And what is so wrong about that?"

"This is neutral area, Merrilynn, and it is close to Alliance territory, meaning that if Benjamin had sent scouts for you by sundown, they could carry out their sentence without consequence."

Oh right, the banishment. I didn't even have time to think on what that actually meant until now. Never to set foot on Alliance ground again. What am I going to do? It's not like the Horde is going to accept me. Banished or not, I'm still not one of them, not to mention I'm a warlock. And something tells me they are just as heart-warming towards the shadow lore as my own faction. Seeing my downcast look Jalane puts her arm around me and guides me inside. Creton is following by the sound of his laboured breath. It appears that the mighty paladins are a little too accustomed to sitting on their horse. As I want to pull down my hood Creton yanks it up again.

"What the..." But he silences me as he hisses in my ear.

"Did you forget that there are still two trolls on the loose? Do you want them to recognize you?"

Saying nothing I let them steer me towards a shadowy corner. I'm afraid that if I even open my mouth to breathe, Creton is going to yell at me again. He makes me feel like I can't do anything right. Like I wasn't born right. I squeeze my eyes shut to hold back the tears as I think about it. Some people hate me because I'm a half-breed; others because I'm a warlock. The alliance hates me for being both, the Horde hates me because I'm from the Alliance and Creton seems to hate me altogether.

For a fleeting moment I thought that he cared about me. When he defended me against Benjamin I actually thought he had changed his opinion about half breeds, but he's been so mean now. Jalane is asking me if I'm alright, but I don't want to answer. I don't even want to listen right now. I just want to curl up in a ball somewhere and cry. I can still hear Jalane's voice, but the words are blurred as I try to keep the tears at bay. I can feel myself being picked up, carried and tucked under a cover. I can feel a hand on my shoulder and comforting sounds near my ear, but I don't want to hear or feel any of it. I wish they would just all go away. Sensing nobody is nearby anymore, I finally let my tears fall. Why is the world so mean? What have I ever done wrong?

#-# Normal POV #-#

"Could you have been any nicer?" Jalane asks with glare directed towards the paladin as she softly shuts the door, not missing the sob coming from the girl's direction.

"What?"

"Merrilynn. She's been chosen as a warlock, discovered as one and banished by her own faction in less than a day. And instead of offering kind words you berate her for futile things. Why did you force that hood upon her? Couldn't you see she was in enough grief already without your harsh words?"

"I'm only trying to protect her."

"From what? It seems to me that the only thing she needs to be protected from is your attitude and your paranoia!"

"You don't know what else she is running from!"

"Enlighten me!"

Whatever secrecy Creton had hoped for, he single-handedly ruined it by yelling at the woman, who answered back with equal harshness. Some would call them very foolish, for fighting in a boat filled with tired Horde is an unwise thing to do. But the Horde travelling with them seemed too tired to even pay attention to the squabble. The ones that opened a tired eye only confirmed their idea of humans being strange creatures. One pair of eyes however was watching them with interest. Not really because of what they were saying, but what had happened prior to the fight. He hadn't missed the purple eyes or the red hair the fleeting second the hood had been removed, nor did he miss the bandaged wrists.

"Merrilynn eh? I had a feelin I'd be seein' her gain soon."

A grin plastered firmly in place, he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest. He would surely need his strength tomorrow, now that he knew she was on board. It felt nice knowing that the redhead would have nowhere to run to now. Or that anyone would be able to intervene this time. Her two 'guards' would be disposed of easily, the male anyway. The woman would make a nice plaything as well, he thought happily before dozing off. Oh yes, his dreams would be pleasant.

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I seem to bash an awful lot on paladins… Oh well, not like they'll die from it. Merri is going through a rough time, but she might find very suprising allies soon.

Thx to Gameplaya,Orannis4, Shelyne and Fgee for reviewing

Hope you liked the chapter

Read, review, flame…it's your choice


	15. Odd Troll

Chapter 15

#-# Merri POV #-#

I'm exhausted, sleepless and sad. I haven't felt like this since my father's tiger, Nashra, died. Right now it seems so stupid to cry over a dead pet, but when you are nine years old, that is about the worst thing that could happen to you. I had known that tiger since I was born, and when it died I felt like I had lost my best friend. I remember my father grieving with me, singing sad songs in his language to lull me to sleep. If my mother noticed I couldn't sleep she would crawl into my bed, holding me and shushing me as I cried. They always took care of me no matter what. And now they're gone.

I didn't even have the chance to say how much I loved them. I never expected that as I rode to Stormwind that I would never see them again. I never even got to say goodbye. All that's left of them is a burned letter and a staff I took from the secret treasures that are now stowed in a vault. I'll never be able to see those things again, since I am now an outcast. So much has happened in a matter of days. My village destroyed, parents murdered, dignity taken by a Troll no less, tainted and discovered as a warlock. And last but not least I was banished from a faction I had called my own for 17 yearsThinking of the Alliance brings the face of that little boy back to my memory. Is that how they gaze upon the Horde as well? I start to feel contempt for my former faction. Do they really believe that if they banish new shadow casters from the Alliance, that the lore itself will go extinct? Pagrin told me that as long as there are people, there will be shadow.

Pagrin, I miss the imp. In all the events that have happened since I arrived in Stormwind, he seems the only one to show understanding. But Jalane told me he is travelling through the Netherworld, and that I will not see him again until we reach Ratchet. I feel alone right now. I know Jalane is there for me, but somehow I cannot urge myself to tell her of my parents, or why my wrists are bandaged, she has had her share of grief. I cannot turn to Creton at all; for he seems to have gone back to the person he was when we first met. Tears threaten to come again and I try to keep them away.

Why him? Why must I cry over the actions of a man I hardly know, while there are so many other things I should be crying about? I should be grieving for my parents and friends, who died in the Horde attack. I feel sad when I think of them, but tears do not come. Even my banishment doesn't bring tears, even though I am condemned to a possibly short life of wandering the borders of the Alliance forever.

But one stray thought of his harsh tone and the tears start stinging in my eyes. I will the tears away when I hear the click of the door. A hand is touching my shoulder, silently shushing me like my mother once did. But her words cannot soothe me. The tears don't fall, yes, but that is because my pride will not let me cry in front of her. Another click from the door and Jalane lets go of me. It's probably Creton.

A bigger hand than Jalane's touches my shoulder briefly and I can hear the man rant about how he only protects me and that I should learn to not be so light-hearted. There are worse things in the world than a harsh tone and I shouldn't be so damn sensitive.

I don't feel tears this time, but anger. Not sensitive? Who in the world said anything about being sensitive? I have been through hell and back twice, so excuse me if his harsh tone hurts me more than it should. I sit up from the bed, not looking at them, for I fear that I'll cry out of anger if I do.  
"Worse things in the world? Name me ONE that I haven't gone through in the past week."

When I hear him starting to speak I cannot believe that he is actually going to answer. Even a fool would know better than to retort to such a question.

"Leave!"

"Merrilynn…" It's the first thing Jalane has said since Creton came in. her voice is soft, hesitant, like she is afraid of me. I don't see why. I cannot hurl fire at them without hurting myself, nor can I cast shadow on them because I do not know how. But I cannot bear to have them near me. Every second of him in this room angers me more. But he doesn't budge.

"I said LEAVE!"

"You are not the boss of me."

I can't help myself. I rush towards him and slap him across the cheek, staring heatedly at his face for a few seconds, before I rush out of the room. If he won't leave, I will. Outside the ocean breeze calms my nerves and as I lean over the boat I once again feel sadness. Why did he not understand that I am not one of his soldiers? Then I realise that they would never understand what happened. Heck, I'm not even sure if I will ever truly understand what happened to me. It's just too much in such a short time.

"Why da face human?"

Looking besides me I see a Troll hunched, his head cocked to the side and giving me a questioning look. Even though he is not standing straight, I still need to look up to look in his eyes. He's grinning and I can't help but cower a little. I have no memory of my attack whatsoever, so I cannot be sure that this wasn't one of the two Trolls that attacked me. I realise too late that I do not have the hood on.

"I see, too good to be talkin' to a Troll are ya…Fine mon."

He turns and I can't help but cry out wait. Why did I do that? Horde raided my village, his kind attacked me, hell, he could even be one of my attackers. He turns back to me, as surprised that I called out as I am. Now what? How in the world do you talk to a Troll?

"You speak human?"

"No mon, I speak common. You humans just be da only race that has no tongue of deir own."

I can't help but feel a little hurt. He just insulted my race for being the only one without a dialect. Shouldn't that be a good thing?

"Didn't mean to insult you human. Was just sayin' you can't have no secret converstations if everyone understands you."

I look at the passing ocean again. Not really knowing what else to say. I've never even had a Troll talking to me before. But instead of going away, the Troll stays besides me.

"Had a bad day human?"

"How bout a bad life?" I mutter silently, not really intending to say it out loud.

At that moment I realise that Troll have exceptionally good hearing. Because the next moment he is crouched besides me and has his arm around my shoulder. I don't want him this close to me and I inch away from his face, only now realising how dangerous his tusks can be.

"Want to tell unkie Troll bout it?"

My eyes widen a little. Unkie Troll? I might not have that much knowledge when it comes to Trolls, but I know that this is not your ordinary one.

"Euh…no thank you?"

Grinning he lifts his arm from my shoulders and holds out a hand. I look at him confused.

"You be hungry den?"

I really wish to Elune I could say no, but the word hungry awakens my stomach and it now grumbles loudly.

"I'll take dat as a yes. I hope you like fish. It's de only thin on da menu."

He chuckles and leads me into a room filled with the smell of fish. My common sense is screaming at me to run away, because he is the enemy. But I can only think that I am no longer from the Alliance, and that he doesn't pose much of a threat. I can see one of those cow-like creatures in the eating area again and I cannot help but ask.

"What are…those exactly?"

"Dose be Tauren mon. You never seen one before?"

"No."

"Well, you'll be seein' loads of dem where dis boat is goin."

"When are we going to arrive exactly?"

"Da way dese goblins sail? Few days, week tops."

Great, 6 days left on this boat with Creton and without my imp. One of those Tauren comes towards the table we are sitting at, and I can feel him looking at me in disgust. He turns to the Troll.

"Do you realise that this could cost you your head? Though you seem to have lost it already by talking to the likes of _her._"

I was right about how this Troll is one of the oddballs. But no matter how much I like to be treated like filth, I don't want him to lose his head. As I stand up, he grabs my wrist.

"Relax mon, dis be da ocean. Here we be equals, besides, da human looked hungry. Would you walk away like dat?"

"It's not about her being a human."

I must have the word warlock written on my face or something. How else does everyone seem to know? Getting my wrist freed from his grip I excuse myself. Feeling several pairs of eyes on me as I leave, I bang the door a lot harder than intended. I can vaguely hear one last thing before the door shuts.

"Ya know mon, it's people like you dat keep dis war going."

I'm back where I started, leaning over the edge of the boat, looking at the ocean as it's breeze warms me when someone grabs my shoulder and wrenches me around. I realise I'm staring straight into Creton's rage-filled eyes. Every word he speaks is spat out to me like I'm scum.

"Are you mad? Going out without your hood on. Communicating with a HORDE. Do you want to die?"

My rage flares up again at his words and I forcefully yank myself out of his grip. I regret it as my shoulder starts hurting, but my eyes feel like they can burn holes through his armour.

"How dare you command me like you own me? Like I am a child? In case you haven't noticed, you are not on Alliance ground, and even if we were, I do not have to obey you since I was BANISHED from it. What are you going to do about it? Take your sword and finish what your beloved commander wanted to start?

He grips my wrist and pulls me close. Call me a fool, but I felt no fear, I didn't even flinch as I felt the wounds on my wrist opening and the joint in question nearing breaking point. Jalane is tugging on the paladin's shoulders. I can see fear in her eyes. It's like she knows something we don't. I wonder what has got her so spooked.

"Creton, let her go, you're being unreasonable."

"I'm being unreasonable? It's time this half breed learns the word respect!"

His true colours finally show. After everything he still considers me as nothing more than a filthy half breed. I want to spit in his face and yell at him, but he lifts an armour clad hand and strikes me across the face. By the force of the blow, his grip fails and I am flung a fair distance away, my wrist breaking as he tries to hold onto it. As my body hits the floor, all the anger and hate leave it and make way for fear. Jalane begs him to stop, but he throws her to the ground as well and lunges for me again, his eyes aflame. I can't do much but raise my arms in a poor defence.

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Creton's going berserk! The guy can't seem to make up his mind about Merri. Like, Hate, Like Hate…that's palas for ya xD

I hope the Troll way of speaking is ok. I translated most of it while sitting in the middle of Deeprun with an add-on called Trollizer. Thanks to the creator of that thing. But it's hell to spell check when you got a Troll talking.

The reason this chapter is posted so soon: I had a major inspiration surge a few days ago, and this chapter was actually finished at 5 a.m. yesterday :p. Just needed a rereading when my mind was more awake.

Thx to Someone, Uruquiel2, Gameplaya and Orannis4 for reviewing.

Gameplaya: The Troll didn't really know Merri, he just recognized her as the girl he and his buddies attempted to rape earlier, as Orannis4 smartly noticed .

Hope you liked this chapter

Read, review, flame…It's your choice


	16. The dark side of shadow

Chapter 16

"Dat be enough now."

I look through the gap between my arms I don't trust it to let them down yet. I can see a Troll holding Creton's arm. It's the same one who I talked to earlier. He just saved me, even though I'm a human, or even a warlock.

"Get your filthy hands off me if you wish to live."

He's not smiling this time, his face is set in a frown and it's deepening with every word Creton says.

"Look mon, I have no problems wit de Alliance, but I have no problems getting rid of dem eider. Leave da girl alone."

This time Creton actually spits on the Troll. Of what I know, Trolls have a short fuse, but this one seems pretty calm. Just wiping the spit off his nose with his free hand he glares at the paladin, but makes no other move. I cringe, even though I'm not the target of his glare. His eyes seem to be on fire and the mere look of it makes my blood run cold. If this turns into a stare-down, I'd bet my money on the Troll.

"Since when do I take orders from the Horde?"

The Troll straightens up to his full height and I find myself crawling backwards. He's at least twice as tall as any human, how can Creton keep glaring? If it were me I'd be crying like a child right now. I look around and see that everyone else has stopped what they were doing, but nobody seems to be anxious to help out.

"Since you be on a boat filled wid dem. Now I see why da girl be so miserable. She got you for a dad."

"She's not my daughter, she's not even related. If she was, I would've drowned her the day she was born."

He sends me a nasty glare. Hours ago he led me out of Stormwind on pain of death, and now he wants to kill me? What was going on with this paladin? I can see the Troll looking at me too, sending me a look of sympathy. Even he's being nicer than Creton.

"Dat be a harsh ting to say now. Sounds like you need to cool off some. I can trow you in de ocean if you want."

At that moment Creton gets out of the Troll's grip, draws his sword and launches an attack. But the Horde member just evades, grinning like a madman. Creton tries several more attempts, but he just keeps evading, being just that little bit faster. He makes no move however to counter the attacks. But as Creton stops and starts saying things in a strange language, the Troll's eyes go wide and the crowd of onlookers gasp. A ball of light is shot towards my saviour and I scream. Rage and the feeling of helplessness tug at my soul and I close my eyes as the ball is about to collide. He was only trying to protect me! I can feel something cracking inside of me.

I can hear the sound of an explosion, but I can't see anything, a thick smoke clouding my vision. As it clears I can see Creton before me, a fair distance closer than he was before, yet…shorter. I look down; my feet aren't touching the floor. I'm floating. What is happening? Is this one of Creton's spells? Is he going to throw me overboard now, like he said he would do? I want to look behind me to see if the Troll is alright, but I find that I can't. I'm rendered motionless.

At least that's what I thought. A dark light is surrounding me and I can see my arm moving, pointing at Creton. But I can't feel it, it's like it's not even my arm. The bandage on my wrist is stained with fresh blood and I don't even feel the pain, or the moistness of the blood.

"You will NOT lay another finger on him."

The sound comes from my mouth, but I'm sure that I wasn't the one who spoke. This voice sounds hollow and angered. I think I'm possessed by something. That or I have a split personality. Creton doesn't seem to be affected by any of this. He just straightens himself and barges at me, his sword unsheathed. I want to raise my arms in defence, but they won't listen. Instead the voice speaks one word and Creton is thrown against the ships side. He attempts to stand up once, but falls back and his eyes close. Then, darkness takes hold of me as well and I can feel myself falling.

#-# Normal PoV #-#

Merrilynn falls back onto the surface of the boat. Not really knowing what to do, the Troll catches her, before letting her drop to the floor from a shorter distance. Jalane is at the girl's side in an instant, placing a hand on her forehead. The girl's skin is a sickly grey, ice cold to the touch, and her veins are dark and protruding.

"C'mon Merri, don't give up. Fight it dammit!"

"What's going on?" The Troll is also kneeled next to the girl, watching the woman with a weary eye. He didn't know if he should run or stay, but concern over the human took over.

"The shadow is consuming her."

"Say what?"

"When a warlock is overpowered by her emotions like grief, fear, pain or in this case all of them, the shadow takes over. It grants them a temporary increase in power. Normally when the problem is solved, the shadow subsides and the warlock is in full control again. But shadow is a tricky thing. If it feels that the master of the body is not strong enough, or that he doesn't want to be in control, it consumes them. Turning them into the mindless beings many tales speak of. The ones that opened the portal."

"Why is she consumed den? She doesn't seem evil."

She looks up at the Troll like he had just told a very bad joke.

"She hasn't even learned to use the shadow yet; she doesn't even know how to fight it."

"You mean she'll be turning into one of dem?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. This has never happened before."

Jalane hides her face in her hands, on the verge of crying. What was she going to do? This was only a girl. If she lost the battle they would have to kill her, before she killed them all. And that was something she really didn't wish to do. Someone taps on her shoulder and she sees the Troll, carrying the unconscious girl in his other arm.

"Where be your cabin?"

Disoriented she leads the way. As he puts the girl onto the bed, she notes that Merrilynn has gotten a little more colour. She hears a small pop and sees the Troll holding a strange glowing vial. Was he going to poison Merrilynn? The girl showed signs of recovering, no need to kill her if she still had a chance.

"What is that?"

"Sometin da brewmaster in me village cooked up mon. It takes away da pain and makes sure she can fight her battle in peace. Should make her sleep for a while."

"How long is a while?"

"A whole vial can knock out a Tauren fo a day, so I was thinkin a few drops an she'll be out fo da rest of de night. You should check er wrist though, it don't look to good."

"Thank you."

"No problem mon, she saved me life. If she wakes up, tell her unkie Troll said hey."

Outside the cabin, one eye watches the Troll leave as the other one is still focused on the cabin door. He knew him well. He was nothing but one of those nature loving shamans who believed the war would stop if both sides got in tune with each other as if they were elements. He also knew that he carried a very potent sleeping potion with him, and having had a glimpse on the state of the girl, figured he would give it to her. He had been weary of him at first, being so close to the one thing he wanted, but now it seemed the ideals of the Troll would work in his favour.

Now all he had to do was wait for the other woman to leave. She was too pretty to kill, and even though he wouldn't mind having both, he preferred one at a time. Less chance to be stabbed in the back. A lot of his friends found him disgusting or crazy, but he had a thing for humans, the female ones anyway. It must be the way they scream as he enters them. It always gave him a thrill that no Troll female could give.

He didn't have to wait long; the woman probably went for that stupid paladin. Exiting the shadows he walked up to the cabin.

"How nice…She even left da door open fo me."

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Some call it a fetish, others call it obsession…this Troll has both

Boy, aren't I the drama queen…

I have HAD it with beta's…I've had two so far, one of them never sent anything back and it's been 12!! Days since I sent this chapter to the other one…still haven't gotten anything back. I realise people have lives and all, but at least a little heads up would be appreciated. I consider myself patient, but things like that wear it thin… So apologies for any spelling mistakes made, except for the Troll speech.

Thank you Orannis4, Gameplaya and someone (romance is coming :p) for the reviews

Read, review, flame…ur choice


	17. A frail balance

Chapter 17

"Ow…my head…"

"You can thank Elune your head is the only thing hurting after what you've done."

"What are you talking about woman? I did nothing?"

"You put all our lives at risk by treating Merrilynn that way. Now hold still."

A strange scented wet cloth was put on his forehead and he hissed as the moistness came in touch with his wound. He couldn't remember what had happened after that blasted Troll had stopped him. But he had a feeling it was all the fault of that half-breed.

"Merrilynn? She is weak, what danger can she put us in?"

Jalane scoffed. She was growing tired of people treating her kin like filth, not knowing that that is the key to the terrible acts they do. Many innocents lost their lives, their friends turning mad as they saw them hang, turning into monsters as the shadow overtook them. How much longer would it take the world to realise that the truly evil ones cannot be caught, or hanged the way the innocents are?

"And you call yourself a paladin…"

Sitting up faster than intended, Creton felt the room spin as he grabbed her arm forcefully.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Aren't paladins supposed to be _kind_ to all, servers of justice, hand of the law, knights in shining armour, the all knowing super warriors that cannot die? Yet you know nothing of the dangers _YOU _put us in by treating Merrilynn badly just because she is a warlock?"

"I don't dislike her because she is a warlock."

"But then why do you?"

"Because she is a half-breed."

"And what have those people ever done to you?"

"They exist! Nothing but bad ever comes from them."

"And what about all the 'pure' humans that are criminals? First and foremost, Creton, Merrilynn is a young woman who is going through a horrible period. And warlocks, no matter how experienced need to be treated gently in those times."

"And why is that?"

Jalane sighed and absentmindedly kept dabbing the wound as she explained it to this unknowing paladin. Wasn't one of their ground rules, know your enemy?

"In every human there is a frail balance between light and shadow. When you are a warlock, the shadow has a stronger presence, but that doesn't mean the light has left us entirely. And there is an endless battle within us to maintain that distorted balance, because the shadow wishes to conquer us, turn us into slaves. That is why we are taught to manipulate it, to control part of it. Right now the shadow is gaining control inside of her, because she was vulnerable. Because you put her in danger."

"I only slapped her. If she can't handle that…"

"You've done more than just slap her and you know it. Luckily she was already weakened before it took her over, or she would have destroyed you _and _the ship. No matter how weak you think warlocks are, when the shadow gains control their powers are unlimited."

"This is why warlocks should be eliminated from civilisation."

"How can you think that way? Can you not see the way we suffer because of that? Don't you think we are punished enough by the hate we see in the eyes of our beloved? Or did you think we have no family, that we are unable to love?"

The fatigue Jalane felt in her heart increased. She had been raised in a loving family, and once the Burning Legion was defeated, they were one of the first to embrace the Horde and honour the peace established between them. When she was discovered a warlock, barely a week after she had found out for herself, her own family had cast her out. The same father who taught her everything about equality and compassion, now gazed upon her as if she was plagued.

She was overtaken by grief and pain, and the shadow was inside her head, trying to gain control. Every waking moment, it was there, driving her near madness. She would have destroyed her whole family if it hadn't been for her friends in the shadow lore. They saved her from certain death, and showed her there were ways to silence the constant calling of darkness. At the time she couldn't be grateful, the pain and grief eating at her, the shadow increasing those feelings tenfold, hoping to gain control after all. And now she was forced to see another of her kin going through a similar experience. The look in Creton's eyes as he spoke of Merrilynn was the same her father had when she saw him the last time. It still hurt to see that look in anyone's eyes. But it hurt even more that hardly anyone even tried to understand.

"My father taught me to be kind to every one, even the Horde. When I was a child I honoured that, and even gained some friends of the opposite faction. As I grew up and learned the ways of the mage, I learned to accept the pain and be kind to those that scolded me for being weak. Even as I discovered that I was one of them, an outcast, I remained kind, and no one ever noticed. But when one day, they realised I was a warlock, the kindness changed. It seemed to my father that warlocks did not deserve to be treated kindly. After all those years of love and kindness, he didn't even seem affected that he was beating his own daughter, throwing the first stone and casting her out to live in a hostile land with no way to defend herself. I never heard from him again, but I'll never forget his face as he declared that he no longer had a daughter. It still haunts me."

She didn't really intend to say it out loud, murmuring it more to herself.

"It sounds like you were just as vulnerable as you claim she is now."

"I was… but I had friends, fellow warlocks, to guide me and help me. I didn't end up with a crazy paladin"

"It's not like I suggested her to be left in my care. At times I wish to comfort her, but at other times everything she does makes me so mad."

"Your heart is in battle with your mind."

"She will never belong in my heart."

"Maybe not, but you feel sorry for her, and feelings are still ruled by the heart."

Creton no longer felt about talking about his heart or his feelings. "Where is she?"

"Asleep in her cabin. Her wrist looks terrible and her cheek is already bruised. Can you find it in yourself to be kind enough to tend to her wounds tomorrow?"

Creton nodded, feeling tired and even more confused than when he had first gotten the girl under his care. He couldn't be nice to her because he, well, he just couldn't, and he couldn't be rude to her because it would put them all in danger. This girl was worse than one of those dodgy bombs the dwarves kept making. You didn't know if she would blow up in your face or if she would turn out to be a dud.

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Originally I'd planned this to become a Jalane x Creton chapter, but that just seemed too sudden and out of the blue. So I turned it into a little background story for Jalane and details about how she feels, since she is quite an important character in the story. The chapter with the troll and our sleeping warlock is still in progress, but I'm hoping to get it posted by the end of next week.

Gameplaya: by the troll I assume you mean Unkie Troll (as you still don't know his name :p). Well, he's an odd shaman who thinks they'd all get along if they just started being nice. So seeing a girl get beaten by one of her own kind got his sympathy. Don't worry, she's not gonna pair up with Unkie Troll…I can safely say that he is more than old enough to be her father.

Thx to Gameplaya, Uruquiel2, Orannis4, troll and someone for reviewing. You guys roxxors :D

Read, review, flame…ur choice.


	18. Close, but still not close enough

Chapter 18

Entering the cabin he found the human lying on her side, face stuck in a pained and troubled expression, but fast asleep. He was right; the shaman had given the potion to her, with good intentions of course. He couldn't have known what the consequences would be.

Kneeling next to the sleeping girl he noted that the other woman had forgotten to throw a blanket over the girl. She was paler than the last time he had seen her, shivering lightly at the cold temperature of the room. He berated the woman lightly for her carelessness. He could see a dark bruise on the girl's right cheek where the paladin had struck her and lightly stroked it with the back of his fingers. She felt so soft…

Letting his eyes travel lower he noticed the bandaged wrists. One of the bandages was stained with fresh blood and the hand seemed to be in a wrong angle. Again he mentally cursed the woman for not taking better care of the girl. He couldn't help it, he just couldn't see a creature in pain, and he always put it out of its misery, or did what he could. And right now it meant setting this girls wrist. He shuddered. Hearing a bone crack back into place was not on his list of favourite things to do, definitely not in a moment like this, but it had to be done if he wanted to shush the annoying voice in his head.

He unwound the bandage and quickly cleaned the wound, inspecting the fracture and then preparing to set it. He looked at the girls face as a loud crack echoed in the room. It turned into extreme pain for a second, and then only her eyebrows remained furrowed. Grabbing one of his lock picks he used it as a spleen to keep the joint firmly in place and re-bandaged the wound, kissing the humans hand before continuing his observation. Pleasantly he noted that her robe split at knee height and was welcomed with the view of two pale lower legs. His hand travelled from ankle to knee and back several times, enjoying the soft feel of the girls skin.

They were always so much softer than his own kind, not exposed to the harsh climate of his homeland. It was one of the reasons why he preferred the humans.

"Now dat can go a little higher, don't ya think?" he whispered to the motionless girl. Retrieving a dagger from his belt he enlarged the tear until it now reached her waist. His eyes devoured the uncovered skin as the cloth fell towards the bed. A few bruises from their previous encounter were still visible on her thighs and he could feel his hands aching. Just as he was about to touch her she rolled over, her face troubled deeply once more.

His hand frozen in place he gazed at the girl wearily. If she was going to wake up, he needed to be fast to stifle her screams. But as she remained motionless he exhaled, she was still fast asleep, only troubled by a dream. Softly and slowly he moved onto the bed, knees on each side of her. His hands ran up her legs, over her thighs and underneath the rest of the robe, fingers travelling over a soft stomach and onto a nicely shaped bosom. He felt his excitement grow as he felt the small nubs harden underneath his touch.

Another reason why he liked the humans: their bodies were always quick to respond. Feeling the cloth strain against his hands, he doubted. Should he cut through the rest of her robe like last time? Or just bother with the buttons and risk waking her? Usually he preferred them screaming, but this ship was crowded with Alliance, and if her screams were heard, his sentence would be carried out on the spot. Besides, asleep, this one seemed a lot more willing. Gently he lifted up her torso, fumbling with the small buttons on her back, but succeeding in getting them open. Sliding the fabric with him down her arms as he laid her back down he was greeted with more of that soft pale skin. He was more than utterly pleased

He laid himself nest to her, pulling her closer to him, feeling as much of that skin as he wanted. There was nobody here to share her with this time. She was already cold to the touch even though the robe had only been off for a moment or so. He would cure that soon. He let his tongue travel over her unusually pointed ear, his own picking up a soft moan. He grinned, finding a weak spot and noting it down in his head.

"So, ya be sensitive dere?" he murmured, repeating the action and softly nibbling on the soft flesh of her ear. She moaned again and he realised one thing.

He liked this more than screams.

Maybe he should ask that shaman if he could borrow some of that potion, or get some for himself. Still nibbling her ear one of his hands pulled the cloth covering her breasts down, cupping one of them, thumb trailing over the sensitive nub. The other travelled to the waistband of her panties, slipping underneath and caressing the soft skin he found there. Her juices were already flowing. She arched into him lightly when a fingernail grazed over her nipple, now slightly gasping for breath. For a fleeting moment he froze again. He most certainly did not wish her to wake up now, not while the fun was just beginning. But her eyes remained closed.

Thinking her ready he slipped a finger into her womanhood. Her body tensed this time and a slight hiss of pain escaped her lips. He could hardly believe this human was still asleep; her actions were so…enticing. That must be one hell of a potion. He stilled his movements for a while, letting her body adjust to the intrusion.

"Don't worry human, you'll be enjoyin dis soon."

He knew he would. Last time he had had such little time with her. His shoulder still ached from the rough push he'd received last time. But in a way he owed the other troll his life, and now she would be only his. She was just as tight as he remembered, and didn't seem to adjust very fast. But as he continued his ministrations to her breasts and ear, she relaxed just enough for him to move his finger. He grinned to himself as another small moan reached his ears. She would be much more than satisfying.

Nudging a knee between her legs he took out his hand long enough for him to unbuckle his pants. He was so close. Her body was no longer cold, but aflame with the passion her body felt. Positioning himself he got ready for the main course.

"Just what you think you be doing?"

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Well, I kept my promise…it's still not next week :p

Well, it's kind of a good thing she's under the influence of the potion. She thankfully will not remember this encounter.

This is my first attempt at a little more 'descriptive' mature scene. Have no idea how it worked out.

Uruquiel2: I know these things make you throw up…but please don't kill me!

Orannis4: Why are you apologizing? I'm thrilled to see you still reading and bothering to review (that goes for all the other reviewers too). I should be the one saying sorry for my absolutely instable updating times. Thank you kindly for staying a fan of the story, glad you like it. I hope this chapter answers your question.

Thanks to someone and Gameplaya for their reviews as well ofc. You guys are great


	19. Nukkua, unohtaa

Chapter 19

Groaning, he looked away from his prize and into the eyes of the intruder. He could see the sparks emitting from them as he made no move away from the girl.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Raz? Or at least was until ya came bargin in"

Grinning broadly he caressed the humans side, who still lay fast asleep. Raz slowly reached for the hilt of his mace, making sure the other Troll understood.

"Leave da girl alone Ayiz. She's ad enough trouble widout you adding extra"

Still not looking away from the shaman he sniffed the girls hair and laughed.

"I know."

Raz's eyes narrowed dangerously, his grip tightening on the mace. Violence was his last resort, but he didn't wish to be caught unaware. Not around Ayiz anyway.

"look mon…just leave da room and nobody gets hurt."

"I can' t do dat."

"Why not?"

"Ya be standin in de doorframe."

Slowly the shaman moved away, weary of any sudden movements the other one might make. Once the path was clear he quirked an eyebrow as Ayiz still made no move to leave. He tensed as the rogue stretched, earning a low chuckle.

"Relax mon, ya're too tense."

Very deliberately Ayiz moved away from the girl and out the cabin. Passing Raz he told him one thing.

"Dis ain't over yet."

And then he disappeared in the shadows. But Raz wasn't reassured of his departure. He did a few circles in the room, reaching out in thin air to make sure that Ayiz had truly left. After that he set to work.

The girl was still under the influence of the potion, but it would wear out soon. As soft and carefully as possible, the shaman started to redress the girl, cursing as his hands were to big to redo the buttons. Defeated he left most of them open, but covered the girl with a blanket. Just as he was about to leave her eyes fluttered open, still drowsy and confused, not aware yet of her surroundings.

He put his hand over her mouth, just in case she would scream. He might be there with good intentions, but the Alliance draws conclusions quickly. He put his other hand on top of her head, closing his eyes and focussing on what he was about to do.

"_Nukkua, unohtaa."_

As he opened his eyes the human was once again fast asleep, never to remember this day or the shaman again. Slowly he let go of her, casting her on last glance before leaving.

"You take care of yourself now, human."

He left the cabin, going against his instincts of watching over her the entire night. Feeling nearly paranoid he kept looking around, still not assured that Ayiz had really left. Reaching the deck he breathed a little easier, taking in the calming effect of the ocean. He was nearly at his cabin and soon he could sleep underneath the comforting wool.

"ya know raz, I thought ya knew better."

The voice was close to his ear. Much too close. Before he could even turn his head, there was nothing but pain in his mind. Eyes clenched shut he fell to his knees as he started feeling cold.

"Never turn yar back on a rogue."

It took a while, but in the end the shaman stopped moving. Surrounded by nothing but the dark night, Ayiz smiled. If the shaman hadn't intervened, he would have lived.

"It be yar own fault really, mon. De tribemaster always sed dat communing wid Alliance is bad for ya health. But ya never listened."

The rogue grunted as he heaved the body over the edge, sending it to its watery grave. Before returning to his own cabin he smiled at the sinking corpse.

"Told ya it wasn't over."

The next morning Ayiz searched the shamans cabin, in hopes of finding the sleeping potion. This boat was crowded with alliance, and even the slightest whimper would get half of them at his throat. But it was nowhere to be found, meaning there would be no chance to get the girl on the boat.

_-__ E must've ad it on im wen I ditched im in de water.-_

He banged his head on the wall for not checking the other Troll before getting rid of the body. It seemed like the human would escape his clutches again. At least for as long as they were on the boat. His mood changed quickly as he realised that eventually, the boat had to port somewhere. And that somewhere was Ratchet. In its own it was a neutral area, but it was small and if you set one foot outside you were in Horde country. His country. The goblins were very strict when it came to borders and they would not intervene, even if a person was being killed only 1 foot outside their village.

Clutching the bag of gold and other valuables he had found in the now deceased shamans bags he smiled devilishly

"Ya be mine soon little human. Very soon."

If it was up to him, as soon as she set foot on land again. But he needed to be patient. She would leave Ratchet sooner or later, even if it was to go to the next Alliance city. And then, she was his.

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Boy, this took longer for me to write than it was worth really. Short, I know, But between the getting my warlock to 70 and baptizing my nephew, my inspiration well was dry. The 'spell' Raz cast was in a northern language, finnish if I remember right (curse me for not remembering). Anyway, this was translated for me by a guilde and basically the words mean Sleep and Forget.

The troll speech might be a little off, but hey, different troll, different accent, right?

TheBlackMan: Wish granted :p. Nice that you noted the 'bad guy' being a rogue. Hope the confrontation wasn't too disappointing. But out of all the trials, this one seemed the best

Fgee: 'stares wearily at torch and pitchfork' heh, I'm really really sorry for not updating sooner. I hope you're not crazy yet because I would never forgive myself!

Wolfie: Thank you so much for your review. The gem part really made me smile the entire day, I'll try to remember the loose ends as well as possible.

Orannis4: Next chapter here, nice to know you'll keep on reading, good to have fans out there that stick to it :D

ILuvGreenTea: Thank you :) Well, I try and update this story at least once every two weeks. Once a week if I'm on a roll, a little longer than two weeks if I have no inspiration at all (like now) So I hope that that is soon enough:p

Also thank you Someone for reviewing.

You guys all rock


	20. Are we there yet?

Chapter 20

"Are we there yet?"

It wasn't the first time this hour that Merrilynn asked that question, but Jalane couldn't really blame her. She was looking forward to the end of the journey herself.

They had arrived in Ratchet three days ago, and Creton left for Dustwallow without another word. Jalane knew because it was the only Alliance port nearby. It wasn't a terrible loss for the two women, for he hadn't spoken a word to them after he patched up Merrilynn, even though the young girl was clueless as to why he became so angry. She had awoken on the ship one morning with a broken wrist and a ripped dress without any logical explanation. But the thing that got both their spirits down was the scenery…or lack thereof. They were used to lush forests of green filled with woodland scents, and the barren wastes of Ratchet and its surroundings were very disappointing.

Nevertheless, they turned to the local trainer for guidance, but he refused to teach Merrilynn the ways of the shadow. There they got their second disappointment.

"Horde only" He said harshly. But once the town was used to the two humans, and the queer looks stopped, he directed them to a small camp south of the Barrens, ironically the name of the wasteland. There, any lost traveller would find his way through the darkness, he added cryptically.

Arrangements for a horse were made and they were on their way…and still are.

Jalane looked around, and it seemed like they had not been moving at all. To her left was still the enormous tree, to her left the pack of strangely striped animals, and in front of her, nothing but flat horizon.

"We have to be close."

"You said that yesterday too." The girl added grumpily.

…..

"Wad you mean you lost dem? You better be joking, Orc."

Ayiz was not happy, and therefore his raptor shifted nervously from paw to paw. An irritated master usually meant something tasty. Ayiz had met the Orc on the ship, hearing him boast about his great tracking skills. Against better judgement, and advice from his companion, he had hired the Orc, hoping to find the women faster, or at least to provide a distraction for the paladin. He hadn't foreseen the trio splitting up, nor the hunters distaste for warlocks. They had been following the wrong trail.

"You told me to follow the humans…and I did."

"No, I sed to follow da women, wad wud I need wid a stinkin paladin?"

Ayiz was so close to the Orc now that the latter could see the cold fire burning behind those eyes. Had it not been for his Orcish blood, he would have quivered. Instead, he looked back just as threatening.

"Not even Thrall himself could force me to follow two warlocks. I'd rather die."

"Wish granted." And with one swift haul of his blade, the Orc lay severed to the ground, much to the delight of Ayiz' raptor. It proceeded to tear up the flesh as Ayiz mounted it.

"Dey split, which means dey was not going to de alliance port. Den were?" he grumbled, more to himself than to his friend. A mischievous glint came in his eyes.

"I tink I ave an idea. Follow me."

With a swift tug on the reins the raptors left their food and took off.

….

"We should make camp," Jalane stated as the sun was casting it last rays of daylight. "I saw a pond nearby to refill our water pouches." Dismounting, Merrilynn silently took out a feeding bag and proceeded to feed the horse and patting it on the nose.

She hadn't been feeling well. Not for a while now. For two weeks she had been travelling, with no actual goal. All she knew was that she could no longer go back.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye..." she muttered softly as she stroked the horse's neck.

Her parents had died in a Horde attack two weeks ago, terrible things had happened to her during that attack, and she couldn't even remember. Did the new blank day mean that something similar had happened on the ship? She took the lock pick from her pocket.

Whatever had happened, someone had cared enough to treat her broken wrist. At least temporary, the morning after, Creton quickly healed her worst wounds and then proceeded to completely ignore her. It didn't bother her as much as the absence of her imp did. He was supposed to be waiting for them in Ratchet. Had something happened to the small creature? She most certainly hoped not.

Pulled out from her thoughts by Jalane she looked at the woman, realising the older warlock wasn't talking to her.

But to something. It was big, blue and in Merrilynn's opinion, scary. She could easily understand why many people feared warlocks even if they didn't know the history. They themselves didn't look frightening, but what travelled with them at times was enough to put all your hairs on end, she thought, remembering the dog-like creature she met on her first encounter with Jalane.

"Dar'thaan, here are our water pouches, fill them and search for firewood, we will be making camp. I trust you are able to deal with such a task?"

"As you command, master." The creature took the two water pouches and disappeared into the darkness.

"What was that?"

Jalane jumped at Merrilynn's question. She had almost forgotten the girl.

"That? Oh, just a voidwalker, one of the minions we can control. You will have your own one day."

"Ah…speaking of minions, do you know where Pagrin is?"

"In the netherworld of course, where else would he be."

"I don't know, waiting for us in Ratchet? As he promised."

"He cannot stay far from his master in the human world Merrilynn, if he does; his connection to this world breaks, sending him back to the netherworld. All you have to do is call him back."

"How?"

Jalane pondered that question for a minute.

"Well, the imp usually seeks out the warlock, so it shouldn't require much magic to call on him. Just think about it and wish it to be at your side."

Strangely enough, it worked.

"About time you called me, kiddo, I was starting to get worried."

"Weren't you the one that said warlocks had a short life-span?"

"Didn't mean I wanted you to have one."

"Pagrin, you know these lands well I suppose, how far is it to the warlock camp?"

The imp looked around a while and then answered "About six hours in the eastern direction. We should get there tomorrow. Then maybe finally kiddo over here can learn something."

"I have a name you know."

"I do actually, but I prefer not using it."

….

Meanwhile Ayiz had arrived at his destination. Surprising the humans in the dark proved useful. He held one of them close, his blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Were is da girl?"

"This is a resting ground for weary travellers, Sir Troll, we see many people, but we saw no girl today."

"Ayiz mon, relax, de Barrens are big, dey might arrive later. Give it time, dey will come."

"Den we should prepare a warm welcome."

….

Merrilynn awoke hearing a scream. If it had been in the dream or not, it was enough to wake her up. The embers of the campfire were still glowing lightly and she could see the voidwalker standing in the exact same spot she saw him before she fell asleep.

"Dar'thaan, don't you ever sleep?"

"I am void, sleep is not a necessity, mistress."

"Don't you minions ever use someone's first name?"

"Not until we are commanded to do so."

She didn't even expect an answer but was surprised by the eerie neutral tone of it anyway. These minions sounded very much like slaves. The more she thought about it, the more she disliked the idea.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, kiddo?"

Pagrin was looking at her with one eye.

"I thought I heard something."

"Well, whatever it was, it's not keeping you up anymore. Sleep, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Goodnight Pagrin." She lay back down, but it took a while before sleep grabbed hold of her again.

Six hours past sunrise, they finally reached their destination. But hearing Jalane gasping 'oh no', something was wrong. She hadn't looked at the camp herself yet, to busy watching the horse's neck. Finally looking up, she wished she hadn't.

The camp was on fire, and the two residents were hanged from a tree. Sensing danger Jalane proceeded to recall Dar'thaan from the netherworld, but an arrow was shot at her before she could finish her spell. She fell forward and lay unconscious. Seeing this Merrilynn was more than alarmed, she was petrified. She recognized that arrow. It was the same kind of arrow that had killed her old horse. They were here. Going to finish what they started. Memories came flooding back as her fear settled in her bones. But just as she was about to break down, something clicked in her mind, and her fear made way for anger. Anger for the death of her parents, and now the injury of her only friend she's had in weeks.

She turned to the direction of the arrow, seeing a Troll grinning at her mischievously. He had been the one responsible. And he would pay dearly for this.

"Pagrin…Get help."

The imps eyes went wide as he looked at the girl surprised. It didn't take him much to realise what was happening to the girl, but that didn't mean he wished to leave her.

"What? Kiddo, you can't even control what's happening yet, no way you're sending me away!"

Flames emitted from her hands as she glared at the imp briefly. Her eyes were no longer purple, but black with fire raging behind them. It would have made even the toughest Troll flinch.

"I said Get Help, Pagrin, Jalane needs help. Go, NOW!"

Reluctantly the imp vanished from sight.

"Silly little girl…" The Troll laughed, but the sound was stifled as he caught sight of the look on her face. He could only just restrain himself from taking an involuntary step back.

"You destroyed my life!" She yelled and hurled fireball after fireball at the offending Troll. Momentarily ignoring the pain in her hands and pretending she didn't feel the blood running down her opened wounds.

The Troll was fast, dodging many oncoming flames, but not fast enough. One struck him head on and then he lay motionless, the flames consuming his flesh, leaving a rotten smell.

The flames in her now bloodstained hands dulled as the pain forced her to her knees.

It was over. They were safe, she thought. But catching something in the corner of her eye she didn't hesitate to cast another fireball into the general direction. She was rewarded with a pained scream, but before she could summon enough strength for another cast, a hand grabbed her by the throat and she was eye to eye with a very familiar face.-

A face she had hoped to never see again. No matter how strong the shadow was present in her body, her eyes returned to their normal colour. She was exhausted and scared.

"You…"

"Me, yeh, I was de one wo destroyed your life. Not my friend. But you will pay for destroying is."

He forgot all about the chase for this girl when he saw his friend fall in battle. He hadn't expected the girl to be able to fight. His rage had been increased when he was hit by a fireball on his shoulder. He was already healing, but it was still hurting like hell. He wanted to hurt her, badly, for all she did to him. But all those feelings of wrath disappeared when he heard her plea.

"Please…don't."

He grinned. He wasn't going to, but since she had so nicely reminded him of why he had been chasing her in the first place, he was going to spare her life…for now. But he hadn't forgotten about her minion. He would be back soon, and he didn't want to risk another fire attack aimed at him. His free hand moved underneath her robe as he grinned dangerously

"I won't…Not now… But I be wanting a souvenir until we meet again."

And without warning he ripped her panties from her legs and brought them to his nose, in front of the shock-widened eyes of the garments owner. Taking a deep sniff he grinned even wider.

"I love da smell of fear in da morning. Tataa for now."

With a maniacal cackle he let the girl drop to the ground and vanished. Trembling like a leaf, she realised she had escaped him yet again. She didn't know if she should count herself lucky or not. He wasn't giving up. He was going to chase her until he got what he wanted.

It gave her a headache. Together with the pain of her injuries and shock from the encounter, she fell into darkness.

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A/N: OMG it's been three months since I updated this thing? Has it really been that long? Oh no!! 'Puts on a blindfold and stands in front of a target disc.' I willingly accept any punishment you wish to throw upon me. 'peeps from under the blindfold and sees fgees relit torch and extremely sharp pitchfork' I brought this upon myself, I must face the consequences. 'gulps'

I wish to apologize for taking so long. It seems like my inspiration likes to see me punished :s. But at least this chapter is somewhat decent.

Someone: Aye, that was. Let's just say that Ayiz doesn't like competition, even if there isn't one

The angel of vengeance: Thx :D and no need to apologize lol, I'm glad you even bother to review (goes for every reviewer!). It's nice to know that you still follow this story. Or at least were, so much time has passed and I've become one of those sporadic writers. I'm the one that should apologize and hereby am for not updating regularly.

Orannis4: Oooh, that's right, blood elfs can be warlocks :D, don't know about a Tauren though, might be a little big for our poor little girl. She'll have her ups and downs, but I promise a happy chapter soon ;)

Fgee: grounded from the computer? Ouch, that's one of the worst punishments parents can give. And hey, no worries, at least you're reading it, doesn't matter when you do. And I'm trying as hard as I can to write.

Chaseboy04: Not discontinuing, but was put on an unannounced hiatus. Again, apologies for not mentioning anything.

Mixcow: Well, Merrilynn is half night-elf, does that count? Thx for the advice, I'll see what I can do

Also thx to zukassi and all the afore mentioned people for reviewing. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting so long; I hope this chapter pleases you


	21. The hidden refuge

Chapter 21

The sound of conversation awoke Merrilynn from her slumber. She dared not move, fearing that the Troll had captured her in her weakened state. But the voices lacked any hint of accent.

"How are they doing?" A rather nasal voice asked, coming directly from her right.

"The young one should wake soon. Her injuries should heal soon enough as well, and the rest will have cured that fatigue, no doubt about it. The other is only a matter of time." This voice was pleasant for any to hear, though deep and rough at times, as if it was suppressing a growl of some sort.

"A bold move, sending her minion for help like that."

"Bold indeed, Sagi, but it worked. She put up quite a fight."

"She was lucky, nothing more."

Slightly cracking open one eye, she hoped to view her surroundings unnoticed.

"Ah good, you have awoken."

Now that she was discovered, she had no choice but to open her eyes fully. Only to have them widen in horror as some black and white beast towering over her. Had the Troll captured her after all? As she was about to scream, a big furry paw covered her mouth, reducing her scream to a muffled yelp.

"Shh, young warlock, we mean you no harm. But the village would not appreciate you waking them up in the middle of the night."

When the information had sunken in, and Merrilynn became calm once more, the big creature lifted his paw, a smile appearing on his face.

"What village?"

"A sanctuary for warlocks on the run. You and your friend should feel quite at home here."

"I never knew such a place existed."

"We tend to keep it secret, since, I don't know, about everyone here is on the run from their faction? Can't have people knowing where we hide now do we?"

Looking to her right she saw that the nasal voice belonged to a gnome, the most familiar sight she had seen in days. It calmed her to see one of her faction, or at least, former faction. His eyes barely reached over the bed frame, but she could see the tinge of bitterness on his face. Replacing it with a blank look, he stuck out a hand, a feat only achieved by standing on his toes, he greeted her.

"I am Sagi, and that is Raimondi, our local healer. And you might be?"

"Merrilynn."

"As I said before, it was a very bold move to send your imp for help."

"Jalane was hurt, if I hadn't, we wouldn't have survived the attack."

The gnome quirked an eyebrow, seeming doubtful of her explanation.

"Well then, Merrilynn, could you tell us what you and the other woman were doing unharmed near a murdered warlock camp? Being warlocks yourselves, you should've at least received some form of damage, besides burnt hands."

"Sagi, you know just as well as I that they were not the ones responsible for the massacre. The burnt Troll near the camp should be proof enough for their innocence. Now be gone, she is still under my care and therefore I shall not have you put stress upon her frail health."

Disgruntled, the gnome left, muttering 'this isn't over yet' under his breath. As a matter of apology the brewmaster explained.

"A good friend of his was murdered in that camp. Pay no heed to him, he just seeks answers."

"I know how he feels" She responded, having lost her own friends and family not long ago. She too wanted answers, and if possible, revenge. But it seemed they would have to wait.

As Raimondi helped her up, she felt her robe shift against bare skin. She shuddered, that last encounter with the Troll had not been a dream after all. But she was glad that it had been the only thing he had taken from her. She saw Jalane lying in a bed opposite from hers. It seemed the woman was alive, her shoulder bound and her hands wrapped in bandages. Merrilynn was clueless as to why the latter needed to be bound. Raimondi noticed the direction of her stare and offered information.

"She will be fine, the arrow was not poisoned, and if my brew works as intended, she will not even be hindered by a scar."

"Your brew? Healers make potions, not brews. Just what kind of healer are you?"

"A Pandaran one, young warlock."

The girl sought deep in her mind for what she knew of Pandaran healers, or even Pandarans in general. She had heard the name before, but nothing in her mind seemed to fit the description of big, black and white, and furry.

"I thought that they were a myth, and even if they aren't…weren't they a nomadic folk."

"Some of us prefer a nice settlement to a hut in no-man's-land. I offer the warlocks my skills and they provide me with the ingredients needed for my brews and a comfortable home. I hope you don't mind, but I tested out a salve on your hands. I had never tried it on freshly wounded skin before. Mind if I take a look at how it has healed?"

As the brewmaster took her hands, Merrilynn briefly wondered how badly they had been damaged by her fight with the Trolls. She was surprised that she wasn't feeling any pain right now. She could have sworn they had been bleeding before she blacked out. Unwinding the bandages, Raimondi explained more of the village. (1)

"It was founded shortly after the second war I think. Warlocks were being hunted everywhere and killed with no reason, burning them at the stakes. It wasn't until a few, often referred to as the 'founders', had proved their allegiance, that a decree was made, in hopes of stopping the massacres. After that, they bound together their magic and created this safe haven for warlocks, where they could live freely without fear of death. The murder rampage lessened, but even now most of your kin are being prosecuted for just existing. It is why this village will not be found on any map, no matter how detailed it might be. It will all be futile though, should one of your own ever betray the location of this place. Ahh, I see my salve worked better than expected."

Looking down at her one unbound hand, and she couldn't do much but agree.

Where her skin had once been burned beyond repair, there was now new and soft skin, though a darker shade. Not flawless, as the oldest and most hardened scars remained, albeit faded; her hands were definitely more presentable.

"Potent salve." She commented, clearly impressed by the results. Slightly moving her fingers, she made sure that this was indeed, her hand. Raimondi smiled at her reaction, black eyes glittering in delight.

"It should be, after 1000 years of perfecting it. I'm hoping the results will be similar for your friend. But I must admit that I have never used it on a case that bad. All we can do is hope."

Remembering with a shudder how Jalane's hands looked, she indeed hoped that the effect would be similar.

The brewmaster briefly looked out of a window.

"It is still long till sunrise, young warlock, you should get some rest."

Nodding she did one last thing before going back to sleep. Her entire being wished Pagrin at her side. As the imp appeared, he instantly nestled beside her on the pillow. He didn't need words to understand that his new mistress felt safer when he was near, or at least comforted by his presence. And, though he would never admit it, he felt the same.

….

Ayiz walked around in the small settlement east of Thunderbluff. His shoulder had finally stopped bleeding, but the burns prevented his Trollish blood from regenerating the tissue. The fight yesterday had forced him to let the girl escape again. The girl that had killed his friend was free…for now. He wouldn't stay here long, he needed his revenge.

Voices erupted from behind him as he passed. He didn't care. All he needed was the local shaman. Unlucky for him, it was a Tauren. Though peaceful and kind, they were not known for their soft treatment of wounds.

"What happened to you?"

"Ad a little run in wid a mage. Can you fix dis?"

The Tauren grabbed Ayiz' arm and pulled him closer for inspection.

"A mage cast this you say? Your arm should have been blown of, judging by the point of original impact. Tell me, did he seem tired?"

"She was on er knees wen she attacked me. Wad do you tink?"

"It was a woman?" The Tauren eyed him warily, starting to figure out exactly why he had gotten burnt, and not at all too willing to heal him anymore. But helas, his duty prevented him from refusing aid.

"Wad does dat ave to do wid it? Look mon, jus patch me up an I'll be on my way."

"All right, but this will hurt."

It took the Troll all of his willpower not to scream as his scarred flesh started to regenerate. Agonizing as the treatment was, it proved effective when his shoulder was again the dark blue colour it was supposed to be. Twisting it around a bit to make sure that it was fully usable, he gave the Tauren a few gold pieces and thanked him.

Once he arrived back in his room at the local inn, he pulled out the panties he had taken from the one responsible for his burn. Sniffing it and rubbing it against his cheek, he imagined all the things he would do to this girl once he had her. Had he taken her the first time, she would be dead by now. Since then it had gotten more personal. It seemed lady luck stood on her side as she had escaped him no less than three times. Three was three times too many. And in that time she had been responsible for the death or capture of several of his friends, the blood of one sticking on her own hands. He wouldn't kill her no more. No, now, he would see to it that she suffered until she begged for death. And beg she would.

All he needed to do was find her.

….

Merrilynn was awoken the next day by loud voices. It seemed their arrival had been noticed by the entire village. She cracked open an eye to look at the newcomer. She was surprised to see a human standing opposite Raimondi, not at all intimidated by the towering brewmaster. He appeared to be of age, wise in his motions and speech. She suspected he had lived through the third war, his face hardened by all the things that he might have seen. Tanned, not surprising since the sun hardly ever seemed to set in the Barrens, and black hair reaching his shoulders, he looked very regal indeed.

"Have they awoken yet?"

"The young one briefly, but it was too late to summon you."

"They can be a threat to our village; it is never too late to summon me. Now wake her up."

"Sir Dextros, it is not because you are a descendant of one of the founders that it gives you the right to tell me what I should do in my ward. She will wake up when she is fully rested."

Sitting up to notify them she was awake, the man named Dextros noticed her and walked straight past the fuming brewmaster. Offering a small though unnatural smile and a hand he bowed ever so lightly to the girl.

"Do you feel fit enough for a walk, milady?"

"Would I not be a threat to your village if I had seen it?" She asked grimly, the new attitude not misleading her. But the man just kept his face blank.

"Only one way to find out is there not?"

Standing up without taking the offered hand she followed the man out the healing ward. Once outside she felt as if she was right back in Elwynn. But that was impossible! She was halfway across Azeroth. Looking around, she found no blue on the horizon, even though she knew it had to be near noon, but pure black. Above her she saw a brightly coloured line passing through the sky. Not far from it was something she suspected to be the cause for the daylight they now had.

"This isn't real."

Not hearing, or ignoring her words, he guided her around the village. It appeared that he was something similar to the mayor of this village. There were 4 'leaders', each representing their respective race, and all descendants from the founders. He told her much of what the brewmaster had explained to her the night before, and then some. Apparently the village existed on a different plain, somewhere in between dimensions. Only people with the knowledge to enter it, or, if they were not of the shadow lore, granted entrance were allowed. It explained to her why the heaven looked so different than what she was used to. She wasn't even in Azeroth anymore.

"Every lost traveller will find his way through the darkness" she mused; now understanding that it had been nothing more than a cryptic clue for the location of this village.

The village was big, and divided in several quarters. Not to separate the Alliance from the Horde, but to make it seem more organized. There was a training quarter that also served as a guesthouse for the Forsaken. They never stayed too long, seeing as they were not only accepted by their kind, but even celebrated. It consisted mostly out of underground crypts where the warlocks were free to train their spell casting without fear of harming anything in the process, provided of course that the room was not occupied by a sleeping Undead. The living quarter was the largest of all. Here were the houses of those who had moved to this village permanently. Having a piece of land at their disposal they could easily provide for themselves without ever needing to set foot outside their village. Then there was the trading quarter where a few goblins had set up a simple shop for those that needed items from Azeroth. They had also set up some sort of bank and had seen to it that the travelling caravan delivered post to and from this plain. Last there was the guest quarter, consisting out of three buildings: an inn, the healing ward where Merrilynn and Jalane currently resided and a building with at least 50 rooms to house any refugee warlock until it was safe for them to go back or their permanent house had been built. The rest consisted of glorious nature, animal wildlife included.

"It's come a long way since the founders created it. Do you see now why we try our best to keep this place protected?"

Merrilynn nodded. She could imagine why so many of her kin sought refuge here. Though in a place between dimensions, it did not lack security. The borders of the village were surrounded by demons, making sure that if there ever was a threat to the village, it would be dispersed quickly.

"But why would you consider Jalane and me a threat? We are warlocks, nothing more."

"Not every warlock comes here with good intentions. Some are bribed with amnesty to reveal our location, others are sent by their crazed out minds to destroy the tender peace we have. We have our ways of getting rid of them before it is too late. I hope you will not take this personally milady, but we need information. A friend of mine will come to ask you questions later, just a manner of knowing who you are."

"And to be sure that I will not destroy what took the founders much of their strength to create?"

Offering her a genuine smile he nodded, knowing that the girl understood and would co-operate. They had arrived back at the healing ward, where Merrilynn was delighted to hear Jalane had woken up.

She too had found out where they were now located. She eagerly listened to Pagrin, who explained to her what had happened after the arrow had struck her in the shoulder.

"After she sent me for help I came here immediately. We were nearly there when I was sent back to the Netherworld. After that I was worried sick about the two of you, not having any ties to this mortal world. I was afraid Merri hadn't made it."

"Pagrin, you said my name! So you do care about me" Merrilynn stated, pretending to wipe away tears.

"Don't get used to it kiddo." But the tone in the imp's voice was no longer filled with contempt. She had proven to him that she was worthy of being respected.

Pagrin still remembered the look in her eyes when he had attempted to disobey her. The shadow had already nestled in her veins, when it had happened, he didn't know. But he prayed that this girl would not fall victim to it as so many of his other masters had. He might have been a demon, but he had feelings too. And right now he was cursing them for growing fond of his young mistress, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before she died, and then he would again live alone, waiting for another warlock to be in need of his service.

It wasn't until the following day that the mayor's friend came by. He was quite tall for a human, with blond hair pulled back in an elegant ponytail. He didn't appear to be a day older than 20. Though his features were young, his manners were more than ancient. He hadn't even introduced himself before he started asking questions. He just sat there on a chair writing down the information she provided, hardly looking up from the papers he had brought with him. Once Jalane had been questioned, it was now Merrilynn's turn.

"Name?"

"Merrilynn Weaderin"

"Staying here or passing through?"

She looked at Jalane, question evident in her eyes. The older woman answered in her stead.

"Staying."

"Why are you here?"

"My village was destroyed by Horde."

His writing hand paused for a moment and it seemed as though he was tempted to give her a look of pity. Dismissing it quickly he started writing again.

"Place of birth?"

"Elwynn"

"Location of bank deposit?"

"Stormwind"

"How long have you been a warlock?"

"No more than two weeks."

Upon that he looked up from his paper and probably for the first time since he had entered the healing ward, smiled at her. Though it did not comfort her. It simply felt evil.

"So you are as we dare say 'fresh meat'. How delightful. Well, I believe that is all for now. Our affiliates in Stormwind will be notified of your arrival here and your belongings will be transported as soon as possible. They should arrive within the week."

He stood up from the chair and smiled devilishly at her once more before leaving for the door. His hand was upon the doorknob when he turned towards the two young women again.

"Since you have not mastered any spells yet, I assume Dextros will place you under my care. My name is Trevellian and I am one of the few that still teaches the lore around here. I will see you for your first training tomorrow. He gave you a tour of the village I presume?"

"He did."

"Then you know where the training quarters are, do you not?"

"Yes."

"Above the entrances are numbers. Take the fifth one and then follow it all the way down until you reach door 59, it is quite far down. Ghastly place, but in reasonably better condition than some of the other rooms. Meet me there at noon tomorrow. If I am not there by that time, wait. Miss…" He rummaged through his papers. "Jalane, you must take the third entrance and proceed to room 35, also at noon tomorrow. I believe Sagi will further explain things when you get there. Untill tomorrow, ladies."

He left the women alone in the healing ward, proceeding to his own chambers. Dextros had told him beforehand under whose care the two would fall, but he was now utterly delighted to know that the one under his care was new to the lore. He would have fun teaching her.

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Update: I first wrote this at 03.00 in the morning European time. So I'm hoping the new version posted about 10 hours later will be better and seem less 'rushed'. I know it's wrong to post something without rereading it, but hey, I hadn't slept in a while :p And oh crud, had to repost it thrice to get rid of some utterly idiotic mistakes, forgive me. Note to self...read thoroughly!

My parents are still going to retile the floor downstairs, but I have no ETA as to when it happens. All depends on the weather. If by Monday it is sunny, the dude who was going to do the tiling will fix his roof first. So fingers crossed everyone, or it'll be a one-week ticket to the stone age for me.

The description has been altered a little, hopefully for the better, and the Pandaran brewmaster is still there. Sagi and Dextros, I miss you guys so bad. I wanna go back to being the gruesome threesome from DD :(. Not that you'll ever read this, but writing it makes me feel at least a little better :p. Trevellian, possible prince charming? No idea really. Next chapter is coming up soon…. I hope

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What I explain here has no tie to the true warcraft history whatsoever! I've only gotten past the first war in the books and I think that war was reason enough for every one to hate warlocks, so naturally, people that are being hunted for what they are, will create a safe haven. At least I would :p. And since WoW still has the ability of creating warlocks, I figure that they are tolerated to some extent, hence the decree that stated: no warlock shall be slaughtered without proof or a fair trial. Plz don't shoot me?

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Ariluvstwlight: Good to hear you like the story, can't promise anything about updating though…my mind is as sporadic as the weather. Hopefully it's no longer as rushed, thank you for telling me.

Ector: Like it that you are liking the story . Well I kind of wondered what goes through their minds, especially in the imps since he seems so defiant and yet loyal to the bone. He was after all my levelling buddy until I figured out voids are better bodyguards. And that took…a while. Well that and I didn't want to waste space for soul shards. Curse them for not being stackable.

The Angel of Vengeance: You are? Wonderful. Thank you for the protection, just hope you didn't get mauled too badly. Don't want you to get battered because of me :p

Fgee: Gets out the first-aid kit let's take a look at that finger. Ah, just a little flesh wound. You should have no problem wielding your pitchfork with it.

Mixcow: Yes, I am a girl p, and I felt it was the least I could do.

Also thx to Zukassi and Someone for their wonderful reviews.


	22. A nightmare relived

Chapter 22

"You're not coming?"

Merrilynn looked at Pagrin hopefully. Maybe having the imp by her side would take away some of the dread she was feeling. But the minion just stood there, glaring at his mistress.

"Sorry kiddo, but you're on your own the first time."

"But why?"

"Those are the rules. And don't look at me like that."

"What rules?"

"Rules that existed way before you and even me. Now go or you'll be late and then we're both doomed."

The imp grabbed hold of one half of her tattered robe, turned her around and gave her a slight nudge towards the entrance of crypt 5. Muttering under her breath she started to follow the hall towards the tomb she needed to be in. By the looks of it, the whole crypt was used very little, cobwebs adorning the walls; moss growing practically everywhere and remains of what had to be alive a long time ago, lying on the floor. With a shudder it dawned on her that this might be just the way the Forsaken like it. The strong smell of decay merely a sweet aroma for their rotten noses. Provided they could still smell of course. Though she really wished to be somewhere else right now, she knew she had to continue if she wished to stay in the village.

Trevellian had told her to come to this place, for her first lesson in dark magic and trial to see if she was allowed to stay. She should be exited, but every step she took down the winding path did nothing more than adding dread to her already frightened heart. She could hear the tiny voice in the back of her mind, begging her for control. But Merrilynn knew better than to give in. Jalane had warned her that the greatest danger to warlocks was none other than the magic they wielded. She would not succumb to the will of something she was supposed to be in control of. She would not lose herself to the shadow.

59 loomed atop one of the entrances to her right. She knocked on the wooden surface that might have been the door in a distant past. A deep, rough voice bade her to come in after muttering to himself words she did not understand. Her heart was banging wildly in her throat by the time she had pushed the rotten piece out of the way. The room, if you could call it that, was poorly lit with a few candles that looked like they could go out at any given minute. A hooded figure stood in the middle of the room.

"Sir Trevellian?"

Lowering the hood he turned. Involuntarily she put a few steps backwards. In front of her stood the one man that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Why was he here instead of Trevellian? She backed away, wanting to get as far away from this Troll as possible. But the exit was no longer there. Her back just hit solid stone and no matter where she looked, the door was nowhere to be found. A wicked smile appeared on his lips as he came closer.

"You wanted to learn shadow, didn't you?"

Frightened as she was by him, she sensed something amiss. His voice was different, void of the heavy accent. Or maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her. He was inches away from her now, that same fiery glint in his eyes.

"I asked you a question, girl."

Gripped by fear she couldn't do much more than nod. He then grabbed her by the arm and dragged her forward. He pointed to the other side of the room where a wooden puppet stood.

"See that dummy? I want you to pretend it is the person you despise the most. I want hate to be the only emotion you feel right now. Dark magic is not just spells and fire girl. You have to feel what you are casting."

His voice was right next to her ear, but she didn't dare look aside to check. She didn't dare to make even the slightest move. How could she feel hate when all she felt was fear?

"Are you dense? Or just hard of hearing?"

She didn't respond. When she felt his hands on her hips she cringed. She wished to run, but she couldn't move.

"I said; pretend that the puppet is your most hated enemy. Let hate be the only emotion you feel, let it flow through your veins. Let the shadow feed upon it."

His voice was harsher, not pleased with the fact that she wasn't doing what he asked. She couldn't stop shaking. Why was _he_ instructing her? Why was Trevellian not here? His grip tightened painfully, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"The sooner you start doing what I say, the sooner this is over. Now do it!"

She took a deep breath, and another. She took just as many until she finally had some control of herself again. Picturing her enemy wasn't all that hard, all she had to do was look right next to her if she had forgotten what he looked like. Not that she'd ever forget. Hating him was the problem. She couldn't control the fear she felt for him and the shadow seemed to grow stronger the longer she was here. It was hard to focus and fight the voice at the same time.

"I- I cannot."

"Close your eyes."

His patience was wearing thin. The shadow had already settled inside of her, why was she making this so difficult? Others would have succeeded by now, albeit weakly. She was still nowhere.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she could hear him breathing to her right. His hands were still resting on her hips, fingers softly touching the exposed skin. She didn't have the chance to mend her robe yet and now she was very much regretting it. As she tried to focus on the hate she was supposed to be feeling, he started walking around her, hands following her curves, always pausing a moment at the splits that ended just around her waist. Was it really necessary for him to touch her? Then again, he had done so much more on previous encounters. Why would now be any different. She doubted even luck could save her now.

"You're not trying hard enough."

For a moment his handlings stopped. Unknown to Merrilynn a faint black aura had started surrounding her. It was quite translucent and faint, but it was there. At last they were getting somewhere. She had been startled by his voice and he had to suppress a low chuckle.

His breath tickled her inner ear, reminding her again how close he really was and that this wasn't a dream she would just wake out of. His hands felt warm on her exposed skin. It was strange to her that a being so cold of heart could emit such warmth. A being that had already done so much to her, and was not intending to stop, hands that had already attempted to kill her more than once. Memories invaded her mind, strengthened by the voice inside of her. Memories she wished to forget. She tried to make them disappear, but the more he touched her, the clearer the images became. Her face was etched in fear, but he only noticed the aura strengthening. She was ready for the next step. His hands left her waist for a moment, returning on her shoulders before she could breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good, now guide that emotion, guide the energy all over your body to your hands, make them your point of focus. Let your hands be the outlet. Feel the energy build in your palms. She had no idea what energy he was talking about. Her body felt tingly, like it had fallen asleep, but that was all she felt. She tried to shift that tingly feeling to her hands, hoping this whole ordeal would be over soon. In a rhythmic motion his hands moved from her shoulders down her arms and to her palms, and somehow the tingling feeling shifted to her hands. She couldn't appreciate his aid when his fingertips brushed past the side of her breasts. She took a deep breath, willing the 'energy' as he called it to her hands. The sooner she succeeded, the sooner the touching would stop. At least that is what she hoped. Satisfied with her improvement, his attention returned to her lower body, his hands encircling her legs and moving upward, guiding the energy again. Her head replayed everything as she felt his hands move on her legs, sometimes brushing bruises that still needed to heal. Whimpering again, she let out a soft no.

"Focus! Or you will never become strong."

His breath landed on her cheek. She wanted to run, to get far away from him, but he had her locked into place in fear. The voice in her head was louder than ever. She didn't wish to go through everything again; she wanted it all to end now.

"NO!"

Without realising it she had shouted out loud. Opening her eyes she could still see her hand outstretched, black aura fading from her fingers. The memories had gone from her head and she was once again in the dark tomb. Where the puppet once stood, there was nothing left but a pile of dark ash. She fell to her knees, feeling tired and distressed. Her skin pale and black veins threatening to come to the surface. She struggled to calm down, to silence the voice that hadn't ceased talking since she had entered the crypt. She could not let the shadow take control. Not now, not ever.

Applause sounded from behind her. Briefly she looked towards the sound, but there was no more troll. Instead, there stood Trevellian, smiling and looking past her at the puppet.

"I must say I'm impressed girl. You're one of the few that has been able to blast it to pieces in the first cast. Your hate for him must have been strong."

She said nothing, trying hard to keep the tears at bay. The voice, it had been the same. He had tricked her, tricked her into reliving the worst days of her life. She would not cry. Instead, she kept silent and focussed on the ground. Was she going to have to go through this every time? Living through that horrid memory whenever she wished to use the shadow? Would it keep toying with her mind like this, driving her to insanity every training?

If so, then she preferred burning her hands to a crisp in the lore of the mage. At least that would keep her sane.

Taking note of her silence he turned towards her with a frown. Strange, most people would be glowing with pride right now, either from the compliment or their own achievement. All she did was look like she was a lost little child. Only when he took a second look, did he realise his mistake.

Too late he noted how much she had paled, how her eyes were rimmed with black and her laboured breaths. Had he pushed her too far? Would she fail to withstand the shadow? Kneeling he caught sight of the shielded tears blurring her vision. He put a hand on her shoulder.

Without warning she shrugged him off and backed away as far as possible. For a brief moment the veins flared and her pupils made way for pools of black. She gave him a dark look. Her voice was controlled by another, darker presence.

"Don't touch me."

As soon as the fierce black orbs had appeared, they made way for startling purple even faster. Her eyes looked hopeless and scared once more. She repeated the words, fear and despair now evident. Realisation dawned on him.

"It was not hate you felt for him, was it?"

She refused to look at him any longer, stepping sideways and out of his reach. Soon, her back touched the rotten wood, signalling her escape. Without another glance at him she turned and rand from the training grounds. Not even stopping for the cries of her imp, bidding her to halt.

Trevellian was left behind shocked. His one hand still in the air, ready to stop her. He blinked a few times and then lowered it in defeat. He had taken the wrong approach. A successful lesson, of course, but at what cost? What would her newly gained ability be to her if she was forever scared of the pain they brought? She was supposed to feel hate, hate for the enemy that had destroyed her family, her village. But it seemed other things had happened, things she hadn't told him, that he hadn't bothered asking. Things that would never enable her to feel hate, only fear. Fear was so much stronger, harder to get out of the system. It explained why the puppet was destroyed so easily. Fear always destroyed everything. This had all gone terribly wrong, save one thing.

She had passed the test…She could stay in this village, if she was still willing, that is. He sighted. What had he done?

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Bah, the construction of the floor took longer than expected, with stupid intermissions too. It's still not finished, but at least I can go back to my room. On the brighter news, I might have a new Beta! Yay, let's hope this one lasts a little longer than the others, ne:p I'm hoping this to be beta-ed by Wednesday, but I don't want to keep you all waiting until then, and past experiences with beta's tell me that I shouldn't either.

Dedicated to all my trusty readers and reviewers out there (Fgee, Orannis4, Ector, Ariluvstwlight, Someone, Mixcow, The Angel of Vengeance, Zukassi, ZabuzaHyuuga, Chaseboy04 to name only those on the first page :p )

I hope everyone who read this chapter enjoyed it. But I can't know that unless I get sum feedback huh.

Zabuzahyuuga: your vote is noted. Rest assured of that. Very disturbing mental image though…

Orannis4: No, the tauren friend has not been entered, don't know if he ever will. Sorry to disappoint you, but the blood elf might be something for when I finally enter the burning crusade in the story, about 20 years to late according to the WoW timeline…but hey I'm not complaining.

Thank you Ector and Arilvstwlight for the reviews as well, feels good to know you're still sticking with the story and its sporadic author, hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.


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